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FOUR CURIOUSLY SPOTTED BRONCHOS 



/ 


The Rambler Club’ 





BY W. CRISPIN SHEPPARD 


I) 




AUTHOR OP 


•'THE RAMBLER CLUB AFLOAT” 

"THE RAMBEER CEUB’S WINTER CAMP” 

“THE RAMBEER CEUB IN THE MOUNTAINS” 

“THE RAMBEER CEUB ON CIRCEE T RANCH” 

“THE RAMBEER CEUB AMONG THE LUMBERJACKS” 
“THE RAMBEER CLUB’S GOLD MINE” 

“THE RAMBEER CLUB’S HOUSEBOAT” 


Illustrated by the Author 



^ > 


THE PENN PUBLISHING COMPANY 

PHILADELPHIA 

MCMXII 


C/3 




COPYRIGHT 
1912 BY 
THE PENN 
PUBLISHING 
COMPANY 


The Rambler Club’s Aeroplane 


W-U 

&GI.A3J.9571 







Introduction 


The five boys belonging to the “ Rambler 
Club,” together with Cranny Beaumont and 
his father's ward, Willie Sloan, have made a 
trip to Wyoming. 

They find that since their last visit to 
Border City the town has undergone a great 
change, and is still in the midst of a true 
Western boom. To add to the interest, a New 
York financier is carrying on experiments 
with a dirigible balloon. 

At Circle T Ranch the lads meet some of 
their old friends among the cowboys. 

This story tells how the - Ramblers came 
into possession of an aeroplane. Willie Sloan 
is an odd little chap, rather difficult to under- 
stand, and is not altogether pleased with life 
on the plains. His presence among the crowd 
is largely responsible for their unexpected and 
startling adventures, in several of which the 
Border City aeronaut and his dirigible bal- 
loon figure prominently. As an aviator, Bob 
3 


Introduction 

omers finds that all his coolness and skill are 
needed. 

The stay in Wyoming brings about quite an 
unexpected result for Willie Sloan. 

Other experiences of the same boys are told 
in “ The Rambler Club Afloat/’ “ The Rambler 
Club’s Winter Camp,” “ The Rambler Club 
in the Mountains,” “ The Rambler Club on 
Circle T Ranch,” “ The Rambler Club Among 
the Lumberjacks,” “ The Rambler Club’s Gold 
Mine,” “ The Rambler Club’s House-boat.” 


Contents 


I. 

A Letter from Bob . 



9 

II. 

Willie Cannot Help It . 



19 

III. 

Cranny’s Plan . 



3 2 

IV. 

The Ramblers Arrive 



40 

V. 

Preparations . 



54 

VI. 

Border City Once More . 



64 

VII. 

At the Ranch . 



79 

VIII. 

At Lone Pine . 



9 i 

IX. 

In the Air 



104 

X. 

Bob Takes a Flight . 



124 

XI. 

The Dirigible . 



136 

XII. 

“ He’s a Puzzle ” 



x 47 

XIII. 

Willie Shows His Nerve . 



x 59 

XIV. 

Milling the Herd . 



172 

XV. 

The Underground Passage 



180 

XVI. 

The Astonishing William 



192 

XVII. 

The Two in the Sky 



209 

XVIII. 

The Rescue Party . 



219 

XIX. 

The Eagle 



232 

XX. 

Over the Mountains 



241 

XXI. 

Adrift .... 



250 

XXII. 

Prisoners .... 



270 

XXIII. 

By Moonlight . 



281 

XXIV. 

To the Rescue . 



291 

XXV. 

The Visitors 



308 


5 


t 


Illustrations 


PAGE 


Four Curiously Spotted Bronchos . Frontispiece 

u What Can a Chap Do Out Here ? ” . . 80 ^ 

“ Go Back to the Ranch ” . . . 169 ^ 

a What In the World Has Become of 

Them ? ” . . . . . . . 223 

An Answer Almost Immediately Floated 

Back 299 v 


The Rambler Club’s Aeroplane. 


7 



























The Rambler Club’s Aero- 
plane 


CHAPTER I 

A LETTER FROM BOB 

“ I tell you, Cranny, it’s simply impossible 
to do anything with that boy ; he hasn’t a bit 
of energy. Whenever my back is turned, 
he’s idling away his time. I do wish to good- 
ness I could wash my hands of him.” 

Mr. Bolton Beaumont, real estate agent of 
Tacoma, Washington, paced the floor of the 
office, his round, good-natured face wearing a 
most gloomy and disturbed expression. Mr. 
Beaumont was a large man — large in all 
dimensions — height, breadth and rotundity. 
The light, too, which, in spite of his present 
displeasure, shone from a pair of keen gray 
eyes, indicated a kindly, sympathetic disposi- 
tion. 


9 


JO 


The Rambler Club’s 


Cranston Beaumont, generally known as 
Cranny, bore but little resemblance to his 
father. Cranny was long of limb, wide of 
shoulder, his loose frame suggesting great 
strength and agility. The lurking smile at 
the corners of a generous mouth appeared to 
be somewhat offset by the aggressive appear- 
ance of a prominent chin ; but, altogether, 
Cranny was a wholesome, clean-cut chap, full 
of life, and brimming over with courage. 

Cranny’s expression gave no indication that 
his father’s words struck a responsive chord ; 
instead, he seemed to be in the happiest frame 
of mind, his eyes occasionally turning toward 
a letter which lay open on a desk before him. 

“ I believe that Willie is positively hope- 
less,” went on Mr. Beaumont, in a louder 
tone. “ But it doesn’t appear to bother you 
in the least. Whom is that letter from ? It 
seems to interest you hugely.” 

Cranny sank against the back of his chair 
and began to whistle softly, while the joyful 
look on his face deepened. Mr. Beaumont’s 
thoughts, however, were too full of another 
subject to pursue his inquiries further. 

“ I often wonder if that boy has a spark 


11 


Aeroplane 

of ambition in his whole make-up,” he con- 
tinued. “ He’s careless to an exasperating de- 
gree. Cranny, have you noticed my desk ? ” 

His son rose to his feet and walked across 
to the opposite side of the office, where he 
stopped to gaze at several long irregular black 
smears on the otherwise clean top of Mr. 
Beaumont’s desk. 

“ Great Scott ! now isn’t that a peach of a 
decoration,” he gurgled. “Ha, ha! How in 
the world ” 

“ Cranny, I must again ask you not to use 
those slang expressions,” broke in his father, 
reproachfully ; “ do try to cultivate more 
elegance of speech.” 

“ Say, dad, when did the ink foundry get 
this boost ? ” 

Mr. Beaumont sighed. 

“ Early this morning I asked Willie to copy 
some papers, and the result was disastrous. 
He upset the ink bottle, nearly ruining an 
important legal paper, smeared his face and 
hands, and — and — well, Cranny, I’m totally 
disgusted — that’s all.” 

Cranny burst out laughing. 

“ Honest to goodness, I can’t help it, dad,” 


12 


The Rambler Club’s 


he chuckled. “ What did Willie say about 
this inky affair ? ” 

“ The same old thing — 1 1 couldn’t help it ’ 
— his usual explanation for whatever happens 
through his own carelessness.” 

“ Sorry now you promised his father to look 
out for him, eh? 71 

Mr. Beaumont eyed his son for a moment 
without speaking, then seated himself before 
his desk, to begin fidgeting with some papers 
in a pigeonhole. 

“ I never had a better friend than Bob 
Sloan, Cranny/’ he said, slowly ; “ he was 
one of those unfortunate men, who, though 
intelligent, seem to have, for some reason, a 
hard time to make their way in the world, so 
he left this poor lad practically without a 
penny. Could I have done otherwise than 
agree to act as his guardian ? — Of course not ! 
But, Cranny ” — Mr. Beaumont’s voice re- 
lapsed into its former querulous tone — “ it’s 
the lad’s future that worries me. What is to 
become of him? He doesn’t seem interested 
in anything or anybody, has no thought of 
the value of time — he’s almost sixteen now, 
and should begin to realize that those who 


Aeroplane 13 

fritter away their youth generally live to re- 
gret such folly.” 

“ I’ve eaten fritters an’ lived to regret my 
folly,” murmured Cranny, sotto voce. 

“ And no amount of good advice seems to 
have any effect on him whatever,” went on 
Mr. Beaumont, despondently. 

“ Willie has a bad case o’ lazyitis, dad — 
that’s what’s the matter,” remarked Cranny. 
“ I’ve watched the little duffer ” 

“ Cranny — Cranny,” protested his father, 
“you know that is just the sort of language 
I object to.” 

“ Oh, then I’ll cut it all out, sir, though it 
comes hard,” grinned Cranny. “ But, honest, 
dad, when you weren’t here, I’ve seen him 
holding down that chair for an hour without 
doing a lick of work. Oh, he’s a pippin, all 
right ! But say, dad, let’s give wee Willie the 
go-by for half a minute — you asked me about 
this letter. Whom do you think it’s from ? ” 

“ I don’t feel in any mood for guessing, 
Cranny.” 

“Well, to relieve your great anxiety, I’ll 
tell you in two words — Bob Somers.” 

“ Bob Somers ? ” 


*4 


The Rambler Club’s 


“ Sure thing ! Bob Somers and the Ram- 
blers are heading this way. Oh, never mind 
about the slang, dad ; I forgot. My, but Til 
never forget the bully time we had at Circle 
T Ranch." 

“ And I'll never forget how you kept on 
talking about it, either/' said Mr. Beaumont, 
dryly. “ But Bob Somers is a lad that any 
father ought to be proud of — manly and self- 
reliant ; not a bit of laziness in his composi- 
tion, Cranny." 

“ I should say not ; he’s a hummer, all 
right ; an’ there’s good old Dave Brandon, 
and little Tommy Clifton, and — and ’’ 

“ I think we lived in Kingswood long 
enough to know Sam Randall and Dick Trav- 
ers," interrupted his father, his round face re- 
lapsing into a broad smile. “ Both good, 
lively chaps, too." 

“ And Dave ! Isn’t he a winner, dad ? " 

“ A winner ! " echoed Mr. Beaumont, in a 
puzzled tone. 

“ Sure ! one of those chaps who is wise to 
all the good things going on. Why ’’ 

“ Cranny — Cranny — what extraordinary 
language you do use." 


*5 


Aeroplane 

“ Oh, never mind, dad. Talk about me ! 
Why, you ought to have heard some of the 
cow-punchers warble at Circle T Ranch.” 

“ I’m very glad I didn’t.” 

“ Well, I was talking about Dave Brandon. 
That chap can write and paint to beat the 
Dutch ; and he knows all those queer little 
marks you dab into writing — commas and 
demi-commas.” 

“ Why, Cranny ! ” 

The tall lad chuckled softly. 

“ Yes, I know that isn't just the right name,” 
he laughed. “ I’ve seen him paint some 
dandy pictures; one of ’em had more’n fif- 
teen colors in it — honest, I counted.” 

“ Dave is certainly a bright lad,” said Mr. 
Beaumont. “ But you haven’t yet told me 
what Bob Somers has written you.” 

Cranny plumped himself down into the 
nearest chair and waved the letter aloft, 
while his eyes began to sparkle with excite- 
ment. 

“ Well, you heard about that great mine 
they found, eh, dad ? ” 

“ The Rambler Club’s Gold Mine? ” 

“ Yes ; exactly ! Well, after doing that 


i6 


The Rambler Club’s 


stunt, they all brake-beamed-it back to Kings- 
wood, and ” 

“ Brake-beamed-it ! Why, what do you 
mean ? ” 

“ Oh, it's just a little of the language you 
object to, dad / 7 laughed Cranny. “ Brake- 
beamers are chaps who stow themselves away 
under freight-cars when the trainmen aren’t 
looking. But the Ramblers were able to dig 
down in their jeans for the coin.” 

“ The purity of the English language will 
eventually be destroyed if the coming gener- 
ation keeps up this dreadful slang,” mur- 
mured Mr. Beaumont. Then, aloud, he 
added : “ And where is Bob Somers now ? ” 

“ That’s j ust what I was coming to, dad. He 
and the other boys spent the winter at school 
in Kingswood, while a couple of mining en- 
gineers hiked out to Washington to see the 
mine.” 

“ Yes, I know all about that, Cranny,” in- 
terrupted Mr. Beaumont. “ When the news 
was received it started a gold rush to that 
section. Many men staked out claims, and 
the mining recorder and gold commissioner 
were kept pretty busy for a while. The par- 


Aeroplane 1 7 

ents of the Ramblers formed a company to 
operate the mine.” 

“ And Bob Somers writes that a regular 
little town has sprung up out there,” added 
Cranny, “ and that some one has even opened 
a general store.” 

“ Do you mean to say Bob has traveled all 
that distance again ? ” queried Mr. Beaumont. 

“ Well, I should smile. The whole crowd, 
too. Just as soon as school was over they 
chucked their books to the scrap heap and 
beat it out to the mine.” 

“ Cranny, how many times must I entreat 
you not to use such language ? ” 

“ Honest, dad, I keep on forgetting. But 
my, hasn’t that Rambler Club been going 
some? They’re in Portland now, and headin’ 
right this way. Hooray — listen ! ” Cranny 
held Bob’s letter up to the light. “ ‘ We ex- 
pect to reach Tacoma in a few days,’ ” he 
read, “ 1 and, of course, we’ll hunt you up. 
And I can promise that there’ll be lots to talk 
about. And, Cranny, our crowd has decided 
to visit Circle T Ranch again. What do you 
think of that? ’ 

“What do I think of that?” repeated 


18 The Rambler Club’s 

Cranny, in a loud tone, as he brought the 
palm of his right hand down on his knee with 
a resounding slap. “ Why, I think it’s the 
bulliest scheme out. Dad, you'll have to give 
me a couple o' weeks' vacation — honest to 
goodness you must. I couldn’t stand not 
going along. Why, say, did I ever tell you 
about ” 

“ If you have missed the smallest detail of 
your momentous visit to the cattle country it 
would surprise me greatly," said Mr. Beau- 
mont. “ I expected something like this just 
as soon as you mentioned Bob Somers’ name. 
Still " — the frown departed from his face — “ I 
don't know that I can blame you ; but, 
Cranny, your services can’t be spared just 
now. If " 

His sentence was interrupted by the sudden 
opening of the door, which admitted to the 
room, first, a shaft of light from the corridor, 
and, second, a slight boyish form. 

“ Ah, Willie ; here you are," said Mr. 
Beaumont. 


CHAPTER II 


WILLIE CANNOT HELP IT 

Willie Sloan, age fifteen and a half, quite 
small for his years, wasn’t a bad-looking 
chap ; or, rather, wouldn’t have been if his 
expression had indicated a greater degree 
of satisfaction with the world. Discontent 
seemed written all over his youthful face, and 
even his slouchy gait and untidy appearance 
told of an unhappy spirit. A mass of tousled 
hair, of a chestnut color, fell over a moder- 
ately high forehead ; deep brown eyes, which 
had a habit of staring straight at one in a 
rather disconcerting fashion — some called it 
impudent — a thin nose, and a mouth never 
quite still completed his facial make-up. 

But the light of boyish enthusiasm was 
woefully lacking in Willie Sloan’s face ; and 
his voice, too, when he presently spoke, did 
not ring with the spirit of youth. 

“ Say, Mr. Beaumont, I lost that letter 
you told me to leave for Mr. Sharswood,” he 
19 


20 


The Rambler Club’s 


began, in a dogged manner, staring hard into 
Cranny’s grinning face. 

“ Lost it, Willie ! Why, how in the world 
did that happen ? ” 

“ I couldn’t help it, sir. I must have 
dropped the envelope when I pulled some 
papers out o’ my pocket, just before getting 
there.” 

Mr. Beaumont shot a swift, expressive 
glance at his son, and shrugged his shoulders. 

“ Willie, that may put me to no end of 
trouble.” His tone was as stern as his good- 
natured disposition would permit him to 
assume. “ I’m more and more astonished at 
your carelessness.” 

“ Awfully sorry, sir ; I couldn’t help it,” 
persisted Willie, as he threw his cap sullenly 
on a chair. 

“ Couldn’t help it ! ” sneered Cranny. “ My 
land, but you do make me tired.” 

“ Then go take a rest,” said Willie, staring 
at him still harder. “ Never lost anything 
yourself, I suppose ? ” 

“ Come, come ! ” interrupted Mr. Beau- 
mont. “ Don’t have any words about it, 
boys. Cranny, call up Mr. Sharswood ; I’ll 


21 


Aeroplane 

have to explain this matter to him at once ; 
and, Willie, you may keep on writing those 
letters I dictated this morning.” 

The small lad, with a defiant look toward 
Cranny, seated himself before a typewriter 
which stood near Mr. Beaumont’s desk, and, 
in a half-hearted manner, began to pound the 
keys. 

“ I’m very sorry, Mr. Sharswood,” Mr. 
Beaumont was presently saying over the 
’phone. “ How did it happen ? Well, 
Willie lost it — that’s all. Too bad you feel 
that way about it. Yes, I’ll be in the office 
all afternoon. Good-bye.” 

“ Is he cornin’ over, dad ? ” asked Cranny, 
with a grin. 

“ Yes. Mr. Sharswood seems to be very 
much annoyed indeed,” answered his father. 
“ The paper contained an opinion from my 
lawyer concerning an important transfer of 
property over which he has had some litiga- 
tion. I shouldn’t have entrusted Willie with 
it,” he added, in a tone so low that it did not 
reach the lad’s ears. “ He is becoming worse 
and worse.” 

“ Old Sharswood’ll call him down good 


22 The Rambler Club’s 

an’ hard ; he’s a slam-back chap,” chirped 
Cranny. 

“ Please do not use such disrespectful terms, 
my son,” remonstrated the other. “ What’s 
that — am I going to give you a vacation ? — 
I’m afraid not.” 

“ Why ? ” grumbled Cranny. “ I don’t 
want to be cooped up in this office all 
summer like a chicken in a wicker-work 
basket. Come, dad ! ” 

“ I can’t talk about it now, Cranny.” 

Mr. Beaumont turned away, while his son, 
with a look of extreme disgust, tossed Bob 
Somers’ letter into an open drawer of his desk. 

Cranny ran a close second to Willie Sloan 
in his lack of attention to business that after- 
noon. He found it almost impossible to keep 
his mind on the dry details of office work, 
for entrancing pictures of Circle T Ranch and 
the cow-punchers would persist in passing be- 
fore his mental vision. 

“ Think of the great sport that bunch is 
going to have,” he murmured. “ Gee ! It’s 
enough to make a chap ” 

A quick step in the corridor, the rattle of 
the knob as the door flew open, and the ap- 


Aeroplane 23 

pearance of a stout, florid-faced man brought 
his wandering thoughts back with startling 
abruptness. 

“ Mr. Sharswood ! " said Mr. Beaumont, 
rising from his desk. 

“ Yes ; here I am ! ” exclaimed the other, 
gruffly. “ See here, Beaumont, how about 
that paper? " 

Willie Sloan's brown eyes were staring 
straight at Mr. Sharswood, while a scowl on 
his forehead slowly deepened. 

“ And do you mean to say, Beaumont, that 
you actually gave an important paper like 
that into the care of an irresponsible lad?" 
demanded Mr. Horatio Sharswood, as he vig- 
orously mopped his face. “ Why, it's simply 
ridiculous — almost reprehensible. See here, 
boy, what do you mean by such a piece of 
stupid carelessness ? ” 

“ Wasn't careless. I couldn't help it," 
mumbled Willie. 

“ Couldn’t help it! Fiddlesticks! And 
don’t you stare at me like that, either. It's a 
mighty good thing you’re not in my office ; 
I’d bundle you out in short order." 

“ I'd be glad to leave it," snapped Willie. 


The Rambler Club’s 

Mr. Horatio Sharswood’s florid face turned 
a shade redder. 

“ Did you ever hear of such impudence ? ” 
he stormed. “ Beaumont, do you allow your 
clients to be spoken to in that manner by a 
little whiffet of an office boy ? Does he ex- 
press any regret for his action? — oh, no — -just 
brazens it out. Why — why ” 

“ I’m not a whiffet ! ” 

Mr. Sharswood stared in amazement. 

“ Never lost anything yourself, I s’pose ? ” 
piped Willie. 

“ Be quiet ! ” commanded Mr. Beaumont, 
sternly. “ Mr. Sharswood,” he added, “ this 
is my ward, Willie Sloan. I regret exceed- 
ingly the loss of the paper, and will do all in 
my power to 

“ Oh, gee — oh, my ! If that ain’t the queer- 
est yet ! ” 

This exclamation, in Willie Sloan’s squeaky 
voice, interrupted him. The boy was clutch- 
ing an envelope which he had just drawn from 
some deep recess of a capacious pocket, and 
stood staring at it with a comical look of be- 
wilderment. 

“ Oh — ginger — I — I didn’t lose it, after all. 


Aeroplane 25 

Well, wouldn’t that stagger a mule? I — 
I ” 

Cranny clapped his hands together and 
burst into a roar of laughter, while the two 
gentlemen gazed at the diminutive form of 
Mr. Beaumont’s ward in astonishment. 

“ And do you actually mean to say that 
you’ve put me to all this trouble for nothing?” 
roared Mr. Sharswood. 

“ Why — why, you ought to be mighty glad 
to get it back, sir,” said Willie, reproachfully. 
“ I couldn’t help thinking I lost it — felt sure 
I’d looked through that pocket carefully ; 
honest, I did.” 

“ Well, well, Beaumont, this is about the 
limit ! ” cried the visitor, as he seized the 
envelope from Willie’s outstretched hand. 
“ All the afternoon wasted — for it put me into 
such a state of mind that I couldn’t do a 
stroke of work. What do you think of your- 
self, young man ? ” 

Willie’s eyes were still staring hard into 
the stout man’s face. He gulped once or 
twice, then mumbled : 

“ I’m not wasting any time thinking about 
myself.” 


26 


The Rambler Club’s 


“ Don’t feel a bit sorry, eh ? ” 

“ Why, I didn’t mean to do it. You 
see ” 

Mr. Sharswood waved his hand. 

“ I don’t want to speak harshly of your 
ward, Beaumont,” he said, “ but, really, I fear 
you are too easy with him. Keep a tight rein 
on the lad. And, as a special favor, my dear 
sir, send some one else to my office whenever 
important papers have to be delivered.” 

“ Well, I’m not asking to come, am I ? ” 
growled Willie, in a sepulchral whisper. 

Mr. Horatio Sharswood glared sternly at the 
office boy, while Willie glared back. 

“ What a cheeky little lad ! ” exclaimed Mr. 
Sharswood, breaking an awkward silence. 
“ He sits there just as calm as you please, star- 
ing a man out of countenance. It’s extraor- 
dinary. No, I can’t stay another instant — not 
even the tenth of a second. Good-bye.” 

The door opened with a jerk, Mr. Horatio 
Sharswood’s stout form remained silhouetted 
against the clear light outside for scarcely a 
moment — then he was gone. 

Mr. Beaumont was too considerate a man 
to say very much to his ward before Cranny ; 


2 7 


Aeroplane 

he didn’t care to hurt the feelings of any one. 
Willie would, perhaps, respond to kindness ; 
but any attempt to drive him might only re- 
sult in his becoming more unruly and stub- 
born. 

But a little later, when Cranny had left 
the office, Mr. Beaumont talked earnestly to 
his ward. Willie listened respectfully, and 
promised to do better, even brightening up as 
Mr. Beaumont pictured the reward which al- 
most invariably follows hard and conscien- 
tious work. Then, when the gentleman went 
into another room, he worked hard for at 
least five minutes. 

Cranny and his father’s ward were allowed 
to leave the office at an early hour that after- 
noon, much to the former’s relief. Cranny 
couldn’t get Bob Somers’ letter or the Ram- 
bler Club out of his mind ; he pictured to 
himself all the good times they were going to 
have at Circle T Ranch, and the fate which 
he feared was going to keep him tied down to 
office work seemed hard indeed. 

As the two walked along, he took Bob’s 
letter from his pocket and waved it before 
Willie’s face. 


28 


The Rambler Club’s 

“ See that, kid ? ” he demanded. 

“ I won’t, if you jab my eyes out with the 
corner,” growled his companion. 

“ Oh, get over that grouch. What’s the 
matter with you, anyway ? ” 

“ Lots.” 

“ Forget it.” 

“ I can’t. Wouldn’t the way old Shars- 
wood talked make anybody hopping ? ” 

“ It’s a wonder he didn’t make you go hop- 
ping, son. Awful nervy — that chirp you got 
off, too. He’s a big man in town. I’ll bet 
dad was mad.” 

“Why? What did I say?” asked Willie, 
with an innocent stare. 

“ Lots ! But never mind — it’s all right. 
Look here, lad : in a few days, Bob Somers 
an’ his crowd’ll strike this town.” 

His companion made no reply. 

“ Did you hear what I said about Bob 
Somers an’ his Rambler Club?” Cranny’s 
demand was loud and emphatic. 

“ Sure I did ! Do they ramble in their 
talk ? ” 

“ Oh, get out ! The whole bunch is on their 
way to Circle T Ranch.” 


Aeroplane 29 

“ Well, there isn’t anything to hinder them 
that I know of.” 

Cranny glanced at him curiously. He 
had frankly confessed to his father that he 
couldn’t understand the lad. Willie didn’t 
resemble any of the boys he had known. 
Jollity and life were certainly missing from 
his composition, and without any compensat- 
ing qualities of earnestness or ambition. 

The big lad thought of these things as 
Willie, taking two steps to his one, trudged 
by his side up a hilly street. An idea which 
seemed to please him immensely entered his 
head. The good-natured curve of his lips be- 
came more pronounced. 

“Just the thing,” he reflected. “Bully 
idea — great ! It ought to cinch it. Whoop ! ” 

“ Are you talking in your sleep ? ” de- 
manded Willie. 

“ If I did, don’t mind it,” grinned the 
other, indulgently. 

“ As long as you don’t call me a cheeky lit- 
tle lad, I’ll forgive you. Say, I couldn’t help 
thinking I lost that ” 

Cranny clapped his hand over Willie’s 
mouth. 


3 ° 


The Ranjbler Club’s 

“ Don’t overwork that 1 couldn’t help it 9 
idea, boy,” he laughed. “ I’ve thought of 
something good.” 

“ A joke on me ? ” asked Willie, suspi- 
ciously. 

“ No ; I’ll let you grow some before I play 
any more. I won’t tell you what it is.” 

“ And much I care,” sniffed Willie. 

The street rose higher and higher. It was a 
neighborhood of attractive residences, many 
of which stood on elevations, with roads 
winding their way toward them through green- 
swards dotted with rich evergreens or flower- 
ing shrubs. Here and there, the two caught 
glimpses of a stretch of water, its broad sur- 
face faintly reflecting the varied hues of pur- 
ple and golden clouds which lazily floated 
above. Commencement Bay is one of the 
arms of Puget Sound, the city of Tacoma be- 
ing situated at its head. They could see, too, 
Mount Tacoma, sixty miles distant, looming 
majestically against the sky. 

The boys soon turned into a broad path 
leading toward a handsome dwelling. The 
white columns of its broad portico were en- 
twined with clinging vines, while potted 


Aeroplane 31 

plants stood about, their flowers adding pleas- 
ant touches of color to the surroundings. 

“ Dad didn’t make any mistake when he 
bought this place, eh, Willie?” asked Cranny. 

And Willie’s face relaxed sufficiently to 
grin a faint acknowledgment. 


CHAPTER III 


cranny’s plan 

“ Well, what are you going to do about it, 
dad ? ” remarked Cranny, two days later. 

Father and son were seated in wicker chairs 
on the portico, enjoying a pleasant breeze 
which gently rustled the leaves, as it sighed 
its way out toward the bay. The distorted 
shadow of the house cut across a freshly-mown 
lawn ; cool, silvery moonlight lay beyond, its 
pale rays detaching from obscurity houses 
and clumps of trees. Patches of mysterious 
gloom stretched here and there, while the 
placid bay, far beneath, blended insensibly 
outward into the soft, grayish blue of a cloud- 
less sky. 

Mr. Beau,mont pondered a moment before 
replying. 

“ I don’t know, Cranny,” he answered. 
“ Willie is a curious lad. He certainly does 
not realize the importance of being in earnest. 

32 


Aeroplane 33 

I can’t arouse him ; nothing I do or say has 
the slightest effect.” 

“Loafing just as much as ever?” asked 
Cranny. 

“ Whenever I come into the office unex- 
pectedly I find him either idly drumming 
his heels against the chair, or lying back, gaz- 
ing listlessly into space.” 

“ Maybe he’s a genius,” said Cranny, with 
a smile. 

“ If he is, I haven’t discovered any signs of 
it yet.” 

“ Come, dad, tell me what you are going to 
do about it ? ” repeated Cranny, a curious, 
eager expression flitting over his face. 

“ Frankly, I don’t know. Willie is more 
of a hindrance than a help in the business. 
Sharswood is offended — he’s a touchy, excit- 
able chap. What the boy will do next ” 

“ Perhaps I can tell you what he ought to 
do,” interrupted Cranny. 

“ What do you mean ? ” 

“Just this.” 

Cranny leaned over, and, with a degree of 
earnestness unusual to him, spoke in a low 
tone, while his father listened in silence. 


34 


The Rambler Club’s 

“ Well,” queried the lad, as he presently 
resumed his former position, “ doesn’t that 
strike you as a scheme ? ” 

Mr. Beaumont still made no answer, but 
continued to gaze in an abstracted sort of way 
at the moonlit distance, while Cranny, eager 
and impatient, eyed him sharply. 

“ Well, sir ? ” his son once more pleaded. 

“ There is a great deal in what you say,” 
admitted Mr. Beaumont. “ Association with 
a lot of lively, energetic young chaps, such as 
Bob Somers and his friends, ought to do a 
world of good. But ” He paused. 

“ But what? ” demanded Cranny. 

“ Circle T Ranch is a long way from here. 
I should feel uneasy about him. Life among 
the cowboys, and out on the range is full of 
danger at times ; you know that, son.” 

“ Oh, I’d look after him, all right.” 

“ You?” 

“ Why, of course. It wouldn’t do to let 
him go unless I went, too,” said Cranny, 
glibly. “ No siree. But think what it 
might do for him, dad. Willie needs to be 
waked up ; he isn’t any use to you now — 
never will be if he doesn’t take a mighty big 


Aeroplane 35 

brace. And those boys ought to do him more 
good in a couple of weeks than everybody else 
put together could do in a couple of years.” 

Mr. Beaumont's face was wreathed in a 
broad smile. 

“ Your argument is very ingenious, Cranny ; 
I see your point — you are entirely willing 
to assume all the worries and restrictions of 
guardianship for the time being, eh ? ” 

Cranny grinned at the gentle sarcasm. 

“ Take my advice, sir. I'm not saying that 
I don't want to go to Circle T Ranch the 
worst way myself ; but you've got to do some- 
thing about Willie. I'll bet the little chap 
won’t talk the way he does after he’s been out 
with those Rambler chaps a few weeks. Now 
don't say no. He’s just about the same size 
as Tommy Clifton, and they ought to get 
chummy together.” 

“ Clifton is a good little chap,” said Mr. 
Beaumont, reflectively. 

“ You bet he is. Gets mighty hot, though, 
if you say anything about his size,” chuckled 
Cranny. 

“ Say, it's nice and warm back there in the 
moonlight,” came in a piping voice. 


The Rambler Club’s 


3 6 

Willie Sloan suddenly appeared from be- 
hind the portico. 

“ Ha, ha ! ” roared Cranny. “ Why, you 
silly little duffer, the moon doesn’t give out 
any heat.” 

“ Listen to the professor,” jeered Willie, 
ambling slowly up the steps. “ Like the 
mischief it doesn’t. Go back there and feel 
it.” He seated himself on the rail. “ Isn’t 
it a white-hot ball, Mr. Beaumont ? ” 

“ Oh, Willie, you’ll be the death of me I ” 
laughed Cranston. 

“ The moon is illuminated by the sun’s 
rays,” explained Mr. Beaumont, “ and as- 
tronomers tell us that it has no atmosphere, 
and is so cold that not a vestige of life could 
exist upon its surface.” 

“ Oh, goodness ! Now isn’t that odd ? ” 
murmured Willie, with a peculiar little gasp. 
“ Isn’t hot, after all, eh? But how do those old 
codgers know ? — They weren’t ever up there.” 

“ Willie,” spoke up his guardian, suddenly, 
“ how would you like to take a vacation ? ” 

“ Eh ? ” demanded Willie, apparently some- 
what startled. 

“ Cranny expects some of his young friends 


Aeroplane 37 

here in a few days — they are on their way to 
Circle T Ranch, in Wyoming. Do you care 
to go along ? ” 

“ I?” 

“ Yes, you I ” cried Cranny, impatiently. 

“ Oh, I don’t know. Maybe.” 

Cranny snorted with disgust. 

“ Why, you’d have the grandest time you 
ever had in your life,” he said, “ and ” 

“ I mightn’t like the crowd,” declared 
Willie, calmly. “ And say : don’t those 
chaps sleep out on the grass ; and cook by 
moonlight? — I mean by the light of the 
moon. And ride bronchos ? And shoot 
grizzlies? and all that sort of thing? You 
told me they did, Cran. Well, that’s not my 
style. A nice little room and three square 
meals a day is good enough for me.” 

“ Then you don’t care to go ? ” asked Mr. 
Beaumont. 

“ Oh, I’m not sure,” answered Willie, in- 
differently. “ Say, Cranny, did you ever see 
a shooting star ? ” 

“ No ! Nor you, either,” returned Cranny, 
highly disgusted. 

“ Like fun I haven’t. Wouldn’t it be great 


38 The Rambler Club’s 

if the moon should shoot? Why do stars 
shoot, Mr. Beaumont ? ” 

His guardian smiled. 

“ What you saw were simply meteors,” he 
replied, “ and ” 

Willie gave another of his peculiar little 
gasps. 

“ Not stars, after all ? ” he said. “ That's 
queer. What are you so mad about, 
Cranny ? ” 

But Cranny made no answer. He began 
to see his bright dream slowly fade away ; 
and all on account of Willie's utter foolishness 
and stupidity. He resolved that the little of- 
fice boy should be enlightened regarding the 
error of his ways, and that immediately. 

With his forehead knit into a tremendous 
frown, the boy presently rose to his feet. 

“ Want to take a walk, Willie ? ” he in- 
quired. 

“ Say, did you ever hear of a chap gettin' 
moonstruck ? ” asked Willie. “ It’s shining 
something awful to-night.” 

“ That's more'n you are,” retorted Cranny. 
“ Coming ? Good-bye, dad ! We won't be 
long.” 


39 


Aeroplane 

Once safely outside of hearing distance the 
big lad began to talk earnestly. He painted 
the most alluring pictures of life at Circle T 
Ranch ; and poured into Willie’s ears a most 
glowing account of the Ramblers and their 
exploits. 

“ And now don’t tell me you’d miss a dandy 
chance like this ! ” he concluded. “ Just 
think of the time we’ll have ! Talk it up 
strong, and the pater’ll stand for our going.” 

“ Say, Cran, you’re awfully good to me ! ” 
said Willie, with suspicious sweetness. 
“ Thanks ! But I don’t know that I’m so 
keen on it. That sounds to me like a pretty 
rough bunch, anyway.” 

Whereupon Cranny, so highly disgusted that 
he forgot diplomacy and the gentle art of per- 
suasion, promptly upset Willie, and, seated on 
his wriggling form, tickled his neck with a 
blade of grass, at the same time expressing 
some very forcible views of his conduct, past 
and present. 

“ And I’ll see that you make a change, all 
right,” he announced, as he got up and walked 
away. 


CHAPTER IV 


THE RAMBLERS ARRIVE 

“ No use coming to the station to meet us, 
Cranny/’ Bob Somers had written, “ for I don’t 
really know the exact time we’ll land in Ta- 
coma. Only this much is certain : it will 
be on Thursday.” 

And Thursday had arrived. 

Cranny worked all day in a fever of impa- 
tience. Every footstep in the corridor set his 
heart to thumping ; every hand laid upon the 
door-knob made him start with eager expecta- 
tion. 

But the day wore on, and still the Ram- 
blers did not appear. 

“ I never knew Bob Somers to fail in his 
word yet,” grumbled Cranny, at the dinner 
table. 

“ One of those word-as-good-as-his-bond 
chaps, I suppose,” grinned Willie, surrepti- 
tiously wiping up with a corner of his nap- 
kin some soup he had spilled. “ He must be 
a crackerjack.” 


40 


4 > 


Aeroplane 

“ I do declare, Willie is falling more and 
more into the way of using those outlandish 
expressions,” sighed Mr. Beaumont to his wife, 
a pleasant-looking lady whose hair was just 
beginning to show faint traces of gray. 

“ Willie is young ” — she smiled — “ and per- 
haps Cranston does not always set him a good 
example.” 

“ I can’t talk as if the words came out of a 
grammar,” mumbled the big lad, whose eyes 
had been continually drifting toward a partly- 
open window which commanded a view of the 
lawn and roadway. 

“ I certainly have never heard you do so 
yet,” said his father, dryly. “ You must re- 
member that men are judged not only 
by ” 

“ Whoop ! By Jupiter, I really believe the 
crowd has come at last ! ” yelled Cranny, 
jumping excitedly to his feet. “Whoopi 
Hooray I See ’em, dad ? One — two — three — 
four — five — yes ; they are actually coming in. 
I’ll bet that’s Bob Somers opening the gate 
— yes, I’m sure it is.” 

Then Cranny, with another wild “Hooray I” 
slammed his chair aside, and would have 


4 * 


The Rambler Club’s 


dashed toward the door had not a word from 
his mother stopped him. 

“ Wait, Cranny,” she pleaded ; “ don’t act so 
like a wild Indian. The boys will be here in 
a moment.” She gazed with interest toward 
the figures rapidly moving across the field of 
view. “ My, what a strong, sturdy-looking 
lot,” she murmured. “ Perhaps, if they would 

be willing to let Willie join them ” 

The crisp ringing of the electric bell inter- 
rupted her, and Cranny, unable to restrain 
himself longer, rushed out of the room. He 
nearly knocked down the domestic, who was 
hurrying to answer the summons ; then threw 
open the screen door with a violence that seri- 
ously threatened its hinges. 

“ Bob Somers and Dave ; and — and ” 

The hubbub of voices at the door increased 
to such proportions that the interested Mr. 
and Mrs. Beaumont could only catch an occa- 
sional word. And it lasted for a wonderfully 
long time, too. 

“ Dad — mother — here they are ! Come 
right in, fellows — no ceremony — mind now.” 
Cranny, happy and excited, burst into the 
room. “ Whoop ! Say, Bob, remember that 


Aeroplane 43 

time at Circle T Ranch when Spud Ward 
told us about the mystery o’ Lone Pine? 
This is Willie Sloan, the pater’s ward. Here, 
Dave, if you can’t get in the door we’ll have 
it widened.” 

At last the newcomers crowded in one by 
one, shaking hands, hearing pleasant words 
of greeting, and responding in kind, until the 
babel of voices was only slightly less than be- 
fore. 

The members of the Rambler Club were 
certainly a healthy-looking crowd of lads. 
Their sun-tanned faces told of outdoor life ; 
and contact with the world had imparted to 
each a sturdy, self-reliant air. Bob Somers, 
square-shouldered, with frank blue eyes and 
brown hair, seemed to be a fitting leader. 
And there was Dave Brandon, the club’s his- 
torian and artist, stouter and more round- 
faced than ever. Dick Travers and Sam Ran- 
dall seemed never to have been in a happier 
mood. 

Standing in the doorway, as if rather hesi- 
tating to come forward, was the fifth member 
— Tommy Clifton ; and it was upon him that 
Cranny’s eyes were fixed with strange inten- 


44 


The Rambler Club’s 


sity. Cranny’s face began to wear an expres- 
sion of the greatest wonderment. He nudged 
Bob sharply in the ribs, exclaiming in a loud 
whisper : 

“ I thought you had brought Tommy Clif- 
ton along ? ” 

“ That’s Tom, all right,” laughed Bob. 

“ Tom-my — Tom-my ? — T-h-a-t isn’t the lit- 
tle Tommy Clifton I knew,” he gurgled. 
“ Why — why ” 

“ Oh, for goodness’ sake ! ” came a petulant 
voice. “ There it goes again ! ” 

An extremely tall, attenuated lad, just 
lacking a half inch of being six feet, with a 
painfully apparent air of self-consciousness, 
came slowly up to shake hands with Mr. and 
Mrs. Beaumont. 

“Say, the ceiling’s just been painted,” ob- 
served Willie Sloan. “ Don’t get your hair 
in it.” 

“ Ha, ha — ho, ho ! ” Cranny went off into 
another paroxysm of mirth. “ That, Tommy 
Clifton ? Why, honest, I can’t believe it. 
Remember what I said the other night, dad, 
about his being just the same size as Willie? 
Oh, my, oh, my, but isn’t it rich ? Tommy, is 


45 


Aeroplane 

that really you?” He walked toward the 
tall lad, poked him playfully in the ribs, and 
began to laugh again, while Tom, reddening 
furiously at being the center of attraction, 
tried to draw away. 

Dave, who had taken possession of the most 
comfortable chair in the room, and was mak- 
ing himself perfectly at home, kindly came 
to his relief. 

“ Little Cliff started off all at once, like a 
sky-rocket,” he explained. “ Never saw any- 
thing like the way he sprouted up, eh, Bob? 
Could almost see him growing. What ! I'm 
fatter than ever, you say, Cranny ? Oh, how 
can you be so cruel ? — No. I don’t weigh 
three hundred pounds, either.” 

“Not yet, you mean,” chuckled Cranny, 
taking his eyes reluctantly from Tom’s blush- 
ing face to survey the ample proportions of 
the historian and writer. “ My goodness, I 
shouldn’t want you to fall on me.” 

“ It’s true that I’m not a featherweight any 
more,” sighed Dave. “ What’s that, Cranny? 
— is my history of the Rambler Club finished 
yet? Oh, my, no — only about twelve hun- 
dred pages of it. But, Mr. and Mrs. Beau- 


The Rambler Club’s 


46 

mont, I fear our arrival is most inopportune ; 
we are delaying your dinner.” 

“Oh, just listen to him!” cried Cranny, 
gleefully. “ If you chaps don’t grub with us 
there’ll be the biggest scrap this part of Ta- 
coma has ever seen.” 

The Beaumonts would not listen to any ex- 
cuses. There was a vast amount of flurry 
and excitement — of everybody getting in 
everybody else’s way. The distracted serv- 
ing maid saved herself from mental collapse 
only by calling in the chauffeur as assistant. 
And then the cook, by some extraordinary 
process known only to cooks, managed to 
provide bountifully for everybody. 

The table was pretty well crowded ; but no 
one cared for that. There was too much to 
talk about. As Willie Sloan, with an impish 
grin, stared from one Rambler to another, 
Cranny judged that he was favorably im- 
pressed. 

“ And so your next stop is at Border City, 
in Wyoming?” asked Mr. Beaumont of 
Bob. 

“ Yes, sir. And they say it’s a very differ- 
ent Border City from the one we knew. Re- 


Aeroplane 47 

member those aviators, Cranny, — father and 
two sons ? ” 

“ At Lone Pine Ranch ? ” 

“ Yes.” 

“ Well, ra-ther. Dad, did I ever tell you 
about ” 

“ I’m quite sure you never missed a single 
detail,” answered Mr. Beaumont, smilingly. 
“ Go on, Bob.” 

“ Well, a short time ago I got a letter from 
our old friend Tim Lovell, whose father owns 
a sheep ranch not so many miles from Circle 
T. Tim says Border City has experienced a big 
boom — lots of building operations are under 
way, and a gas works is already completed.” 

Mr. Beaumont’s business instincts were im- 
mediately aroused. 

“ What has brought this change about, 
Bob? ” he asked, alertly. 

“ Well, for one thing, the railroad was re- 
cently extended to the town, so that many of 
the cattle-ranchers who formerly drove their 
stock to Creelton now ship from Border City. 
The aviators had something to do with it, too.” 

“ How, I’d like to know ? ” asked Cranny. 

“ Oh, in a lot of ways,” answered Bob. 


The Rambler Club’s 


48 

“ You see, a wealthy New York man inter- 
ested in dirigible balloons and aeroplanes 
financed their experiments at Lone Pine 
Ranch. Then, when the Aero Club of Wy- 
oming decided to hold a meet and give big 
prizes for the speediest machine built in the 
state, he came West.” 

“ So as to find some soft place for them to 
fall on, I s’pose,” mumbled Willie. 

“ Where will this meet be held ? ” asked 
Mr. Beaumont. 

“ At Border City.” 

“ At Border City ? ” echoed Cranny. 

“ Yes ; this New York man, Major Warfield 
Carroll, I think Tim called him, got busy 
with the committee in charge. He offered to 
stand a part of the expense if they’d hold it 
at Border City.” 

“ Why ? ” asked Cranny. 

“ Well, Major Carroll’s aviator friends had 
interested him in the place, first of all. Then 
he discovered that Border City had possibil- 
ities — and got the town’s people all worked 
up over it ; and some of the ranchers, too. 
Anyway, the scheme has had the biggest kind 
of a boost.”^ 


49 


Aeroplane 

“ Well, that’s going some ! ” cried Cranny. 

“ And Tim Lovell says we'd never know 
the place," broke in Sam Randall. “ There's 
a big flour mill and grain elevator there now ; 
and " 

“ A couple more hotels," interrupted Dick 
Travers, in his turn. 

“ So the ‘ Black Bear ' and 1 Cattlemen's 
Retreat ' have rivals, eh ? " grinned Cranny. 
“ Remember how each one tried to get ahead 
of the other ? I'll bet, dad, I never told you 
about " 

“ Oh, at least half a dozen times," laughed 
Mr. Beaumont, spreading his hands in pre- 
tended dismay. “ What other news of Border 
City have you, Bob?" 

“ Well, land values have, of course, taken a 
big boom ; for employees of the various busi- 
ness enterprises had to have homes. Why, 
sir, — we didn't really intend going to Circle 
T Ranch. But when Tim told us about 
all these things and the aviators at Lone 
Pine " 

“ And the meet which is just about to take 
place," supplemented Sam. 

“ We decided to take it in. And then, of 


50 The Rambler Club’s 

course, it’ll be jolly fun to be out on the 
plains again.” 

“ And among the sheep raisers and cattle- 
men,” put in Dick, his face beaming with 
glee. “ If you could only go along, Cranny ! ” 

“ Oh,” sighed Cranny, “ if ” 

He glanced at his father wistfully. Then 
his eyes fell upon Willie Sloan’s grinning 
face, and he felt that but for his woeful lack 
of enthusiasm such a delightful experience 
might have been possible. The mixture of 
feelings so disturbed him that he scarcely 
heard these words : 

“ Wonder if we’ll ever have an aeroplane, 
Bob?” 

Tommy Clifton had ventured to speak at 
last. Tommy’s voice, like his stature, was 
changing and his tone was of an astonishing 
gruffness. 

“I say, did you hear that, Cran?” ex- 
claimed Willie, in a loud whisper. “ You’d 
think it was a man.” 

“ Oh, get out ! ” snapped Cranny. 

“ Have an aeroplane ? ” Dick was saying, 
with an eager note in his tone. “ That’s so, 
Bob — flying is one o’ the few things the 


Aeroplane 51 

Ramblers haven’t done yet. Say, if we only 
could ” 

“ A nice idea,” drawled Dave Brandon, 
smiling. “ Theoretically, I’ve been up a 
number of times, and come down to earth 
with a bang.” 

“ Been the real thing, I’ll bet you would 
have bored a hole clean through to China,” 
remarked Willie, calmly. “ Guess the grass 
never grows again on any spot where you 
happen to fall.” 

The stout boy good-naturedly joined in the 
storm of merriment. 

After dinner the party adjourned to the 
drawing-room, where the conversation con- 
tinued to flow with uninterrupted vigor. 

Cranny, his face aglow with pleasure, pres- 
ently wandered over to Willie. 

“ That kid’ll surely want to go the worst 
kind o’ way, after hearing all this talk,” he 
reflected. “ Maybe it isn’t too late yet.” 

“ Say, Willie,” he said, in an aside, 
“ changed your mind, haven’t you ? Don’t 
you think it would be the greatest sport ever, 
at Circle T ? Come now, tell dad you’re right 
in for it.” 


52 


The Rambler Club’s 

“Oh, I don’t know,” responded Willie, in- 
differently. “ I never go in much for those 
exciting stunts. Say, Cran, is China really 
right beneath us? ” 

Cranny gazed fixedly at the diminutive 
figure. “ All right for you ! ” he snapped. 
Then, fearful that Willie might say some- 
thing which would set the crowd to laughing 
at him, he stalked away in disgust. 

All too soon came the time for the Rambler 
boys to go. 

As Bob turned toward the door, Willie’s 
voice rose above the others. 

“ I say, Ramblers,” he remarked, “ don’t 
you want to stay in the hay-loft? Nice place 
up there.” He jerked his finger in the 
direction of the stable and garage. “ Ought 
to seem natural. I guess your bunch 
sleeps on the grass most of the time, doesn’t 
it?” 

“ Many a night, with only the canopy of 
heaven and the twinkling stars as a roof,” 
answered Dave, with a smile. 

“Well, that would never keep off the rain,” 
piped Willie. “ Say, Mr. Clifton ! ” 

“What?” demanded Tom, whose feelings 


Aeroplane 53 

had been considerably ruffled by Willie’s 
impish glances. 

“ When a parade comes along, you’re right 

in it, aren’t you ? How does it feel ” 

He stopped as a hand suddenly grasped 
his collar, and he found himself being 
dragged unceremoniously away. 

“ Get out of here, you pocket edition,” 
sniffed Cranny. “ What time to-morrow, 
Bob? Sure the pater’ll let me off — eh, dad? 
— I told you so ! Yes, we’ll have a grand 
day. Say, Bob” — Cranny leaned over, and, 
putting his head close to the other’s ear, 
whispered in earnest tones — “ now, don’t 
forget to talk it up for me.” 

Bob nodded emphatically. 

“ How a chap can be as thin and long as 
that Thomas Cliffy and yet live beats me all 
hollow,” remarked Willie, as the four mem- 
bers of the household stood on the porch 
looking after the retreating figures. “ Say, 
Cran, what’s a pocket edition, anyway ? ” 

“ Look in the mirror, and one will be 
staring you in the face,” snapped Cranny- 
“ That’s all the satisfaction you’ll get.” 


CHAPTER V 


PREPARATIONS 

“It seemed just like being in Kings wood 
again — to see those boys,” said Mrs. Beau- 
mont, as she and her husband and the two 
lads gathered in the drawing-room. “ What 
a fine, lively lot they are ; and isn’t it posi- 
tively extraordinary the way Tommy has 
popped up? Did you like them, Willie? ” 

“ Oh, kinder ; seemed a bit fresh to me.” 

“ Oh, Willie ! ” 

“ Well, I didn’t see anything remarkable 
about them. That fat one thinks a heap of 
himself, doesn’t he ? Looks lazy, too. Better 
overhaul all the chairs he sat on ; if they 
aren’t weakened, I’m surprised.” 

But Cranny paid no attention. He had 
withdrawn to a far corner of the room, with 
his father, and was engaged in a low, earnest 
conversation. 

“ Willie doesn’t care to go — that is easily 
seen,” Mr. Beaumont was saying. His round, 
54 


55 


Aeroplane 

good-natured face lighted up with a quizzical 
expression, as he regarded Cranny’s doleful 
countenance. “ Still, what Bob Somers said 
this evening has made me reconsider my de- 
termination not to let you go.” 

“ Eh — eh ? ” exclaimed Cranny, almost 
stammering in his eagerness. “ What ! Do 
you really mean it, dad ? ” 

“ That depends, son.” 

“ Upon what? ” 

“ You.” 

Cranny sank into a chair with a great sigh 
of relief. “ Then it’s all settled,” he mur- 
mured. “ Great Scott ! don’t you know I’m 
capable of doing heroic stunts ? ” 

“ Cranny ! ” 

“ Oh, I forgot, dad. But, for goodness’ sake, 
do tell me.” 

“ I’ve heard about Mr. Warfield Carroll ; he 
is a New York financier and promoter of rec- 
ognized ability. If Mr. Carroll has consid- 
ered Border City of sufficient importance to 
warrant his taking a prominent part in its 
development, I, as a business man, am inclined 
to look into the conditions there.” 

“ Ah, ha ; a light breaks in upon me,” gur- 


5 6 


The Rambler Club’s 


gled Cranny, hilariously. “You want me — 
me — to do the investigating ; and put you wise 
to ” 

“ Cranny ! ” 

“ Excuse me, sir. My, but that certainly is 
fine of you.” 

He reached over and shook his father’s 
hand with a vigor born of great enthusiasm. 

“ Trust me for doing it right. If I 
don’t make a thorough job of it you may — 
may ” — Cranny stopped, in perplexity — 
“ douse my glim,” he added, with a happy 
thought. “ And then Willie won’t have to 
go along, either, eh, dad? Just as you say, 
he doesn’t seem to take any interest in Circle 
T Ranch or ” 

“ Of course Willie will go,” said Mr. Beau- 
mont, quietly. 

“ Why — why — what’s the use ? ” demurred 
Cranny. “ After acting the way he has about 
it, seems to me it would be better for him to 
stay home and help at the office.” 

Mr. Beaumont smiled. 

“ And, when you come to think of it,” went 
on Cranny, “ for a tame little chap like Willie, 
it’s kind of dangerous out among the cow- 


Aeroplane 57 

punchers and big herds of longhorns. Why, 
I’ve seen ” 

“ How long have you thought so ? ” asked 
his father, with a quizzical look. 

“ Why — that is — I — I ” stammered 

Cranny. Then, as he suddenly realized his in- 
consistency, he stopped short, with a rather 
sickly grin. “ It's one on me, dad,” he ad- 
mitted. 

Mr. Beaumont’s eyebrows knit, in mild re- 
proof. 

“ It is human nature, Cranny, to argue from 
whatever standpoint most closely affects our 
own interests,” he said. “ Now that you can 
go irrespective of Willie, you are perhaps not 
quite so willing to undertake the responsible 
duties of looking after him. Do you still 
think the boys may be able to liven him up 
—to prod his slow nature into activity ? ” 

“ If they can’t, he’s a hopeless case,” an- 
swered Cranny, anxious to redeem himself in 
his father’s eyes. “ A few weeks at Circle T 
certainly ought to put some ginger into him.” 

“ I’m glad you think so, though your man- 
ner of expressing it is not altogether elegant. 
Now, of course, you may combine business 


The Rambler Club’s 


J8 

with pleasure; but the main object is to post 
me as well as you can. And if you consider 
it advisable I shall come on. I know you are 
young for such a mission, but ” 

“Young? Why, goodness gracious, I'm 
almost seventeen ! ” cried Cranny, in mild as- 
tonishment. 

His father smiled indulgently. 

“ When you reach my age, seventeen will 
not seem like a very long span of life.” He 
raised his voice : “ Willie ! ” 

“Hey?” said Willie. 

“ I wish to speak to you a moment.” 

“ What have I done now, I wonder? ” mur- 
mured the boy. 

He plumped himself down in a chair close 
by, and, with his hands stuffed into his trou- 
sers pockets, waited for his guardian to speak. 

“ Willie, I have decided to give you a vaca- 
tion,” said Mr. Beaumont. “ You and Cranny 
are to spend a few weeks in Wyoming, with 
Bob Somers and his friends.” 

“ Oh ! ” said Willie. 

“ Aren't you pleased ? ” 

Willie pondered a moment. 

“ Oh, kinder,” he answered, “ if they don't 


59 


Aeroplane 

get too fresh. Ha, ha ! Cran worked it, 
after all, didn’t he ? So we’re going to that 
old farmhouse, eh ? Foxy lad ! How’d you 
do it, Cran ? ” 

Willie’s impish grin increased. Then, sud- 
denly, he burst into a laugh which ended 
with one of his peculiar little gasps. His 
guardian certainly did not look pleased. 

“ Rather a surprise, this. Thanks,” added 
the boy. “ Maybe they won’t be glad to have 
me along, Mr. Beaumont. Say, Cran, did you 
ever notice what funny names some animals 
have ? Duck-billed platypus ! What’s a 
platypus, anyway, Cran ? ” 

He grinned cheerfully, as an ominous gleam 
shone in Cranny’s eyes. 

Cranny didn’t sleep very much that night, 
and when he did doze away it was to imagine 
himself among the cowboys and out on the 
plains, whirling amid all sorts of strange and 
exciting adventures. 

Next morning Willie went to the office with 
Mr. Beaumont, as usual, but Cranny lingered 
at the breakfast table until half-past eight. 
Then he hastily jumped to his feet, dashed 
out into the hall, clapped on his hat, and in 


6o 


The Rambler Club’s 


another moment was striding over the grav- 
eled path toward the gate. 

“ Won’t Bob Somers be surprised ? ” he 
chuckled. “ My land, but isn’t it the greatest 
piece of luck ! And perhaps, with all those 
aeroplane stunts going on at Border City, we 
may get a ride in the air.” 

At length coming in sight of the National 
Realty Building, the meeting place agreed 
upon, he saw a small group gathered in front 
of it, and, regardless of the passing crowd, 
sent a loud whoop of greeting over the air, re- 
ceiving an immediate response. 

Neither Bob nor his chums showed any 
great surprise at the welcome news ; any other 
outcome would have astonished them greatly, 
as Cranny was one of those lads who nearly 
always manage to have their own way. 

“ Say, Bob, you chaps will have a big job 
on your hands,” chuckled Cranny — “ the job 
o’ makin’ a man out of Willie Sloan.” 

Thereupon he gave them a full account of 
Willie’s early history, touching not lightly 
upon his faults, and ending with the observa- 
tion that the lad was certainly — “ some 
queer.” 


6i 


Aeroplane 

“ I noticed that he didn’t join much in the 
conversation last night,” grunted tall Tommy 
Clifton, “ and when he did make some remark 
it was rude. Looked kind of grouchy to me.” 

“ In a way, he’s the cheekiest little rooster 
in all Tacoma,” declared Cranny. u Your 
work’s cut out for you, Bob.” 

“ All right,” laughed Bob. “ I’m sure the 
crowd will do their best. Now, Cranny, to- 
morrow morning ” 

“ Whoop ! Makes me feel so great I can 
hardly help dancing a jig right here,” cried 
the big lad. “ Come on ! I’ll show you the 
sights of Tacoma.” 

And that was the beginning of a strenuous 
day for the Ramblers. Tireless Cranny led 
them from one point to another, until stout 
Dave Brandon declared it to be the hardest 
eight hours of tramping he had ever put in. 

The boys again dined with Mr. Beaumont, 
and during the evening assisted Cranny and 
Willie to pack their belongings. When the 
former announced that nothing further re- 
mained to be done, they gave a cheer which 
caused Willie to stare at them in astonish- 
ment. 


62 


The Rambler Club’s 


“ Ginger ! You chaps have a nerve to 
startle me like that / 7 he remarked. 

“ Wait till you see us at the ranch," laughed 
Cranny, as he slipped on a well-worn cartridge 
belt. “ Gee, fellows, this feels natural. Look, 
Bob ! ” — he held up a large revolver — “ the 
identical chap I had at Circle T ! And there's 
my gun in the corner ; it's always been kept 
in good condition." 

“ Good boy," said Bob, approvingly. “ Our 
arsenal is at the hotel. Glad you are going 
along with us, Willie ? " he asked, slapping 
the lad on the shoulder. 

“ Oh, kinder. Only I wish we could ride 
there in an aeroplane. Bet none of you chaps 
would have the nerve to take a flyer." 

“ That’s because you don’t know us," said 
tall Tom Clifton, stiffly. 

“ Oh, Mr. Clifton," jeered Willie, 

“ aren't " 

“ Fellows " — Bob Somers’ clear voice inter- 
rupted him — “ I have an idea that before 
this trip is over we may have some experience 
with aeroplanes. Those aviators at Lone Pine 
will » 

“ Let us go up, sure as shootin'," supplied 


Aeroplane 63 

Cranny, his eyes beginning to sparkle with 
interest. 

“ Which means that Til have to write a few 
hundred pages more,” drawled Dave, who 
was sprawling with careless ease on a chair by 
the window. “ For, of course,” he added, 
with a chuckle, “ we’ll get hold of a machine 
somehow, and have it all to ourselves.” 

“That’s so!” cried Sam. “Hooray for 
the ” 

“ Rambler Club’s aeroplane ! ” chorused the 
others, in lusty tones. 


CHAPTER VI 


BORDER CITY ONCE MORE 

The observation car of the Pullman train 
speeding swiftly across the state of Wyoming 
had perhaps never held a livelier crowd than 
the Ramblers and their friends. All but Tom 
Clifton and Willie Sloan seemed bubbling 
over with good spirits, and were perfectly 
willing that every one in the car should know 
it. 

Tommy, however, feeling that exhibitions 
of mirth and glee were hardly dignified in 
one who had so nearly reached the stupen- 
dous height of six feet, only occasionally forgot 
himself sufficiently to join in their merry 
laughter. During the trip the look of discon- 
tent had often vanished from Willie’s face. 
He opened his eyes in wonderment as the 
train lumbered up steep grades and across 
magnificent mountain ranges. 

The ever-changing views of rugged, gigan- 
tic heights, of masses of bald rocks and forest- 
64 


Aeroplane 65 

clad slopes, of cascades and rushing torrents 
fiercely foaming and lashing their way be- 
tween barriers which sometimes approached 
the tracks, even awakened within Willie a 
feeling of enthusiasm. But he said very little, 
and sat back in his seat sedately when there 
was nothing particularly awe-inspiring to be 
seen. 

The wonderful mountain views were finally 
left behind, and the heavy, labored puffing 
of the locomotive resolved itself into swift 
pulsating notes as more level stretches of 
track were reached. Between low-lying hills, 
their long undulating summits dropping 
nearer and nearer to the plain, the Ramblers 
were carried, until the train shot through an 
opening in the final range and out upon a 
great stretch of loam-covered prairie. 

There were but few passengers on the car, 
and the boys changed from side to side, or 
walked about to suit their pleasure. Eager- 
ness showed in their bright expression and 
voices as the miles were dropped behind, 
each instant bringing them nearer to Border 
City. 

“ lean hardly believe it's true,” said Cranny, 


66 


The Rambler Club’s 

hilariously. “ Isn't it great, Willie? Just 
think — say, what you are staring at so hard, 
eh ? ” 

“ I was just wondering if Mr. Clifton uses 
hair varnish,” piped Willie. “ Hasn’t he got 
the glossiest mop ever ! Did you shave this 
morning, Mr. Clifton ? ” 

“ Oh, get out ! ” mumbled Tommy. 

“ Not while we’re cuttin’ along at this rate,” 
grinned Willie. “ Say, Cran, is it really true 
that the earth turns on its axle ? I ” 

“ There’s the town, sure as I live ! ” called 
out Sam Randall, excitedly, waving a field- 
glass. “ Yes siree, Bob Somers, it is.” 

“ Where away ? ” cried Cranny. 

“ To the right ; see it ? — Border City, fel- 
lows, looking twice as natural as it ever did. 
My ! the place must have grown just as fast 
as Tommy. Hooray ! Won’t be long, now, 
before we’re there.” 

“ And I’ll bet Jed Warren’ll be waiting for 
us with the buckboard and some lively 
bronchos,” roared Cranny. “ You wrote 
Mr. Follett when we’d arrive, eh, Bob ? I 
thought so. Yes ; I can make out some 
buildings now.” 


Aeroplane 67 

“And, just think, to-night — old Circle T 
Ranch again,” remarked Bob. “ Won’t that 
be jolly?” 

With eager impatience the boys watched 
the town of Border City coming into view. 
There was no need of the field-glass now. 
Outlined against a line of hills beyond, the 
pale-colored buildings in the full glare of the 
noonday sun were assuming definite form. 

“ Border City terminal ! ” 

The conductor’s voice came to their ears 
above the rumble of wheels. A sharp, crisp 
blast from the locomotive whistle shrieked 
its way across the plains ; and the happy 
and expectant crowd promptly flung to the 
breeze a ringing chorus of shouts to keep it 
company. 

“ I see something I never saw here before,” 
cried Sam, a few moments later. “ Look, Bob.” 

“ That’s right, Sam — the gas works ; and — 
and — by Jove ” — he seized the field-glass 
from the other’s hand — “ the hangar of a 
dirigible balloon — must be Major Warfield 
Carroll’s, eh? See it— just beyond that 
clump of trees ? ” 

“ Sure thing ! ” cried Dick ; “ and there’s a 


68 


The Rambler Club’s 


long line of sheds ; most likely to house the 
aeroplanes.” 

“ And I notice mills of some kind, too ” — 
the voice came from Dave. “ No mistake 
about Border City taking a big boom, fel- 
lows.” 

“Just wait till Cran gets in his licks,” 
grinned Willie. “ I’m here to keep him 
right on the job. He was getting stale in 
Tacoma. Did you speak, Mr. Clifton ? ” 

“ Not to you, William,” returned Tommy, 
freezingly. “ Bob, I can see the Black Bear 
Hotel now.” 

“ And the Cattlemen’s Retreat, too,” 
shouted Cranny. “ Whoop ! Don’t let the 
cow-punchers scare you, Willie. There’s al- 
ways some loafing around.” 

Another rasping whistle came over the air 
as the train began to slacken its speed. 
Straight ahead, the boys could see the shin- 
ing steel rails disappear beneath a train shed, 
while above the roof rose a slender tower. 
The platform was crowded. 

“ My goodness, how different from the 
Border City we knew ! ” cried Bob. “ Looks 
like a real live town, now, eh, Dave?” 


Aeroplane 69 

“ Remarkable change/’ murmured the stout 
lad. “ Wonder if the crowd will have as 
lively a time out here as they did before.” 

“ Not the slightest doubt about it. The 
Ramblers always manage to get mixed up 
in some stirring events.” 

Guns, suit cases and bundles were seized 
by their respective owners ; and when the 
cars had given their final lurch, and the last 
grind of the wheels had echoed sharply 
through the train shed, the seven stood 
ready to swing themselves off the platform. 

They had scarcely alighted when a young 
man dressed in regulation cowboy fashion, 
wearing a blue shirt, leather chaps, a flowing 
yellow handkerchief about his neck, and a 
huge, broad-brimmed sombrero, made a dash 
toward them, at the same time uttering a glad 
shout of welcome. 

“ Jed Warren ! ” cried Bob, his face aglow 
with pleasure. 

“ Wal — wal, I reckon you’re sure right, 
pard,” exclaimed the cowboy, gleefully. 
And in the attempt of the enthusiastic lads 
to shake his hand at the same time bundles 
were dropped and suit cases knocked over. 


7 ° 


The Rambler Club’s 


Several of the loungers who made it a 
point to meet nearly every train were vastly 
entertained by this spectacle. 

There were so many words and exclama- 
tions crowded into the next few seconds that 
no one knew exactly what any one else had 
said, and the first distinct sentence came in a 
shrill voice : 

“ My ! What magazine cover did you es- 
cape from, anyway ? ” 

Jed Warren’s grinning face was immediately 
turned toward the speaker. 

“ My father’s ward, Willie Sloan, Jed,” said 
Cranny. “ He’s out here to get some ginger 
into his composition.” 

“ Say, do you wear those clothes because 
they look nice, or because they feel good ? ” 
asked Willie, when the operation of shaking 
hands was over. 

“ Both,” answered Jed, with a good-natured 
laugh. 

“ Well, you make me think of a moving 
picture show. Are you going to stay here all 
day ? I never saw chins wag so fast in all my 
life before.” 

“ Most as fast as that chap has grow’d up,” 


7 1 


Aeroplane 

grinned Jed, jerking his finger in the direc- 
tion of Tommy. “ Wal, there’s somethin’ I 
ain’t never seen the eq’al of — I sure ain’t.” 

“And no one else has either, I guess,” 
mumbled Willie, as he started off. 

Outside the station, which was situated 
close to the Black Bear Hotel, the general 
store and post-office, the boys found Border 
City presenting a busy scene. Several “ rigs ” 
stood close by, and among them they saw 
the familiar buckboard belonging to Circle T 
Ranch. Back of it, tied to hitching-posts, 
were four curiously-spotted bronchos, their 
stamping hoofs and lashing tails giving suf- 
ficient indication of their fiery, untamed 
spirit. 

“ Whoop ! If that isn’t the greatest ever ! ” 
cried Cranny. “ I know that bunch. No 
buckboard for little Cranny.” 

“ Or for me,” added Bob. 

“ I feel in a generous mood,” laughed Dave ; 
“ I’ll let Willie take my nag.” 

“ You’d get pinched for cruelty to animals, 
if you ever tried to ride one of those poor 
little beasts,” grunted Willie. “ What makes 
’em so full of ginger, Warren ? ” 


7 2 


The Rambler Club’s 


“ Them critters is the pick o' Circle T 
Ranch, young un,” responded Jed, impress- 
ively. “ Thar ain’t one but what’s a reg’lar 
tornado an’ cyclone mixed together when he 
gits hisself a-goin’ good. Don’t walk too 
clos’t ; their heels is liable to fly. I declare 
I can’t git over seein’ this bunch ag’in.” 

“ When the Ramblers have been around it 
generally takes an awful long time for some 
one to recover,” said Willie. “ I’ve been 
through it myself. Oh, sugar ! Is this town 
rented out to a moving picture concern ? ” 

“ I ain’t never seen one o’ them picters,” ad- 
mitted Jed ; “ but if yer refer to cow-punch- 
ers an’ sheep-men, thar’s a few still left ; an’ 
most of ’em are good, squar’ fellers.” 

The boys were quick to notice that the ap- 
pearance of the people of Border City had 
also been considerably affected by the changed 
conditions. The typical plainsman could still 
be seen lounging around the Black Bear 
Hotel and general store ; but men in less pic- 
turesque garb, and with an unmistakable air 
of the East, or middle West predominated. 

Substantial buildings of brick and frame 
had sprung up on all sides, making the origi- 


73 


Aeroplane 

nal ramshackle houses of Border City appear, 
by contrast, smaller and more forlorn-looking 
than ever. 

The sun, just overhead, blazed down on the 
winding street ; a yellow glare, full of sim- 
mering heat waves, enveloped the surround- 
ings ; and every foot or horse’s hoof that 
struck the ground raised its little cloud of 
choking dust. 

“ Say, fellows, I see they call this Carroll 
Avenue now,” sang out Bob, pointing to a 
sign-post opposite. 

“ Major Carroll’s a fine chap,” pronounced 
Jed. “ Thar’s a-goin’ ter be some great doin’s 
hyar purty soon, lads ; an’ him an’ them aero- 
plane fellers are the ones we kin thank fur it. 
An’ say, Bob, mebbe them Lone Piners 
weren’t glad to know your bunch was com- 
ing ! ” 

“ I remember the time when they weren’t 
so glad to see us,” chirped Cranny, with a 
reminiscent grin. 

“ An’ that’s whar ye’re just right,” laughed 
Jed. “ But things is different now. What’s 
that, young un ? ” 

“ I were a-sayin’, pard, as how I’m hotter’n 


74 


The Rambler Club’s 


a fried egg/’ grunted Willie, with fine mim- 
icry. “ Let’s go somewhere.” 

“ Sure — over to that hangar ; we might get 
a peep at Mr. Carroll’s dirigible,” cried Dick. 

“ Oh, goodness ; not now,” demurred Dave. 
“ I’m ’most famished ; and uncommonly 
sleepy, besides. Aren’t you hungry, Willie?” 

“ Kinder.” 

“ Would ye like ter hit the trail fur Circle 
T Ranch, youngster? ” asked Jed, with a quiz- 
zical smile. 

“ Don’t mind.” 

“ Say something else once or twice a day,” 
snapped Cranny. “ Sure, Jed, we’d better 
hike over there as fast as we can.” 

“ Hip, hip, hurrah for the ranch ! ” cried 
Sam, making a break toward the bronchos. 

The crowd, with their guns, suit cases and 
bundles, attracted considerable attention, but 
only Tommy Clifton seemed to be disturbed 
by the sounds of laughter which came from 
several cattlemen lounging in front of the 
Black Bear Hotel. 

The discontented look had returned with 
full force to Willie Sloan’s face. He was 
tired ; and the yellow glare and yellow dust 


Aeroplane 75 

made him devoutly wish that he and Border 
City were miles apart. 

Tommy had intended to take a seat in the 
buckboard, but upon hearing a remark from 
Willie which seemed to indicate no great opin- 
ion of his prowess as a broncho rider, he re- 
considered. 

“ What, Mr. Clifton, air ye a-goin’ ter ride?” 
asked Willie, mockingly. “ Why, say, pard, 
ye’ll hev ter hold yer feet up, or ye’ll furrow 
the prairie.” 

“ I’ll make you an astronomer some day, 
William — astronomers see stars, you know,” 
quoth Tom, highly exasperated. 

“ I guess I’ll never see a star in you,” re- 
torted Willie, impudently. 

Dave had already seated himself in the 
buckboard, and Willie climbed indolently up 
beside him, while Sam, yielding to Dick Trav- 
ers’ earnest request to ride one of the bronchos, 
also took his place in the rig. 

It wasn’t an easy matter to dispose of their 
belongings, especially as some of them had to 
be strapped to the mustangs’ backs, and these 
little beasts were absolutely averse to such a 
proceeding. But, in spite of wildly gyrating 


The Rambler Club’s 


76 

bodies, wicked snorts and glaring eyes, the 
work was finally accomplished. 

Even Willie’s tired air vanished, as he 
watched the boys spring into the saddle and 
stick there, although their mounts seemed to 
jump about as though endowed by nature 
with springs of steel. 

“Oh, just look at Mr. Clifton I ” roared 
Willie. “ My, oh, my ! Hold your feet up, 
Thomas. Gee ! There’ll be seventeen hun- 
dred holes in the earth by the time we reach 
the farmhouse. Look ” 

The sharp cracking of Jed Warren’s quirt, 
followed by a sudden jolt of the buckboard, 
ended Willie’s sentence. There was a clatter 
of horses’ hoofs and the swift whirr of rap- 
idly-revolving wheels, and thick clouds of 
dust began to trail behind them. 

The extent of Border City’s development 
surprised the Ramblers. They were quickly 
whirled past the new Carroll Inn, a grain ele- 
vator, the Wyoming Flour Company’s big mill 
adjoining, and, upon turning a bend in the 
crooked street, saw rows of neat little houses. 

“ The wheels of industry have surely begun 
to turn in earnest here,” laughed Dave. 


Aeroplane 77 

“ Doesn’t it show what a real live-wire man 
can do? ” 

“ Cran will short-circuit that chap all right,” 
grunted Willie, “ an’ then they’ll have an- 
other street — Cranberry Bog Avenue. Gee ! 
I don’t believe that careless driver’ll ever let 
us reach the farmhouse alive.” 

Presently the prairie opened out before 
them, hemmed in by a line of hills. Over its 
broad, flat surface the buckboard traveled at 
a rattling pace. The boys on the bronchos 
rode far in advance, their shouts of glee often 
flung to the air. By the time the vehicle had 
crossed a rocky pass in the hills the riders 
were no longer in sight. 

Within a short time Jed was driving close 
to great herds of cattle, some browsing amidst 
the buffalo grass, while others ambled slowly 
through fields of tumbleweed. 

Even the jolting of the buckboard could not 
prevent Dave from falling into a doze, and 
Willie, taking little interest in his surround- 
ings, sat huddled up, his eyes half closed. 

“ Hip, hip, hooray ! ” yelled Sam Randall, 
with startling abruptness. “ Hooray ! There 
it is ! Whoop ! ” 


78 


The Rambler Club’s 


“ What — what? ” cried Willie, in affright. 

“ Circle T Ranch, you little goose ! ” 
snapped Sam. “ Look — -just beyond that rise.” 

And Willie, with his eyes now wide open, 
saw straight ahead a long, low building shin- 
ing brightly in the sunlight. 


CHAPTER VII 


AT THE RANCH 

The ranch-house was a solid, time-stained 
structure, its thick stone walls pierced at in- 
tervals by loopholes, for Circle T had been 
built at a period when bands of Indians on 
the war-path endangered the lives and prop- 
erty of the settlers. 

Mr. Follett, a pleasant-looking gentleman 
whose brown beard and hair were streaked with 
gray, stood on the wide porch talking to the 
boys, his face wreathed in smiles, as the buck- 
board rolled up. 

Almost before the wheels had ceased revolv- 
ing, he hurried over to shake hands with the 
latest arrivals. 

“ I can't tell you how pleased I am, boys," 
he said, heartily. “ And all your roughing-it 
experiences, Dave, haven't thinned you a bit. 
Ah — and this is Willie Sloan ! Bob has been 
talking to me about you, son. And Sam 
79 


8o 


The Rambler Club’s 


Randall, too ! My goodness, how natural it 
seems to have all you lads here again. 77 

A slender youth suddenly darted from be- 
hind a pillar of the porch. 

“ Tim Lovell ! 77 exclaimed Dave. 

“ Tim ! 77 echoed Sam, heartily. 

And then there was more hand-shaking and 
exclamations ; and by the time calmness had 
been restored Jed Warren and the buckboard 
had disappeared behind the sheds in the rear 
of the ranch-house. 

Willie Sloan looked about him with in- 
terest, but did not seem enthusiastic at the 
prospect of remaining several weeks at the 
ranch. 

“ Ginger ! What can a chap do out here? 77 
he grumbled, speaking to Bob. “ Don’t like 
it? — Why, say, what in the dickens is there 
to like about it ? Ride bronchos, eh ? Not 
much ! I 7 d like to punch Cran for getting me 
out here ; yes, I should. Only wish I was back 
in Tacoma. 77 

“ Cheer up, 77 sniffed Tommy. “ Don’t be- 
gin to blubber. 77 

“ I’ll whale somebody of your length in a 
few minutes,” returned Willie, his grin sud- 






Aeroplane 81 

denly returning. “ Speaking to me, sir ? ” he 
added, raising his voice. 

“ Yes ; won’t you boys come inside ? After 
such a long ride, you must be tired,” remarked 
Mr. Follett. “ We’ll have an early supper.” 

“ And uncommonly glad I am, too,” mur- 
mured Dave Brandon. “ Say, fellows, don’t 
the mountains look fine?” 

“ How can a streak o’ blue look fine?” 
grunted Willie, as his eyes turned toward the 
jagged peaks of the distant range. “ Stop 
dreaming, David B.” 

The first floor of the ranch-house contained 
two apartments, the larger used as a dining- 
room. There was a great deal in it, too, which 
should have aroused the interest of any wide- 
awake lad — objects of the chase, mounted in 
lifelike attitudes, besides Indian relics and 
firearms, arranged artistically about the 
walls ; but Willie merely yawned. 

“ My, but don’t I wish I hadn’t come,” he 
mumbled in a scarcely audible voice. “ Ride 
bronchos ? Oh, ginger ! ” 

Up-stairs, the boys found three cool, invit- 
ing rooms already prepared for their reception. 
They soon washed, and changed their trav- 


82 


The Rambler Club’s 


eling clothes for the more comfortable khaki 
suits which they had brought with them. 

“ Christopher ! If I'd known I was goin 
to look like a Boy Scout, I'd have raised 
kick," grinned Willie, when they had assem- 
bled down-stairs again. “ Say, what's-your- 
name ! " 

Tim turned, as a sharp elbow dug against 
his ribs. 

“ Well ? " he asked. 

“ It’s about Mr. Clifton," said Willie, in a 
loud whisper. “ Look out for yourself. I 
caught him at it ! " 

“ Caught him at what ? " 

“ Beadin’ a book on first aid to the injured. 
An' he's got a whole lot o’ others 'bout anat- 
omy. If you ever get tossed from your mus- 
tang, maybe he'll want to do some stunts with 
you." 

“ Tommy’s going to be a doctor," grinned 
Tim. 

“ Help ! " murmured Willie. 

“ And Bob's all for the law." 

“ He’ll be all in when it comes to the exams," 
snickered Willie. “ Bet he fails worse " 

“ And Dave is " 


P CTQ 


Aeroplane 83 

But whatever information Tim seemed 
about to impart regarding the stout boy’s 
future was abruptly interrupted by the noisy 
entrance of three cow-punchers. Big, brawny 
men they were, too. And the moment their 
eyes rested on the boys they voiced a loud, 
hearty welcome. 

“ Sam Skillet, Wyoming Tom and Straight- 
backed Pete Sanderson !” cried Bob, as the 
crowd rushed forward to shake their hands. 

The first thing which forcibly struck Willie 
Sloan was that Sam Skillet possessed a voice 
of the most extraordinary power; and the 
second, that Wyoming Tom, the half-breed, 
was the perfect picture of an outlaw. Willie 
stared hard at them with unabashed curios- 
ity, and hesitatingly placed his small white 
hand into the huge brown paws which the 
cow-punchers, each in turn, held toward him. 

“ Yes, them fellers over to Lone Pine hev 
been a-goin’ up in their air-ship most every 
day, Bob.” Skillet’s great voice rang through 
the room. “ An’ if it ain’t the wonderfulest 
thing ye may call me a maverick to onct.” 

“ Maverick ! What’s a maverick?” asked 
Willie. 


8 4 


The Rambler Club’s 


“ I’ll tell you,” answered Cranny. “ A good 
many years ago, a man named Maverick went 
out to Texas to run a ranch. He was such a 
soft-hearted chap that he’d never brand a steer 
or slice its ears, an’ the way dishonest stock- 
men swiped them was simply awful. Out 
here, they sometimes call an easy mark a 
maverick.” 

“ Wal, as I were about to say, them air-ships 
flies jist like birds,” went on Sam Skillet ; 
“ but ye’d never ketch me a-goin’ up in one, 
pard ; no — not fur a thousand head o’ the 
finest bullocks in Wyoming.” 

“ Nor me, nuther,” grunted the half-breed, 
decidedly. 

“ Only hope I get a chance at it,” laughed 
Bob. 

Pete Sanderson regarded him with a pecul- 
iar expression. 

“ Ye’ve got a heap o’ pluck, young un,” he 
said. “ But ye’d best take my advice, an’ 
leave them thar things alone. It ain’t nat- 
eral fur a man ter fly — weren’t never in- 
tended.” 

“ Only when the sheriff gets hot on his 
trail,” grinned Cranny, 


Aeroplane 85 

“ Why don’t they punch cows with aero- 
planes, Mr. Clifton ? ” inquired Willie. 

Tommy frowned fiercely, but made no reply, 
whereupon Willie, delighted, flopped himself 
down on the nearest chair. 

That evening every one had something to 
say about the astonishing increase in Tommy’s 
height and the lad’s diffidence increased in 
ratio to the number of times such remarks 
were made. 

Willie, too, added to his discomfort by ad- 
dressing him as Doctor Clifton, necessitating 
upon Tommy’s part a recital of his newly- 
awakened ambition to some day become a 
member of the medical profession. 

A Mexican, Jose Miguel Valdez, waited 
upon the table, while the boys had occasional 
glimpses of the cook, Jake Montgomery Tal- 
bot Hart, generally known as Sambo. 

It seemed very pleasant to have every com- 
fort and convenience in the big room of the 
ranch-house, and yet be situated right in the 
midst of a vast stretch of rolling prairie. 
The men told interesting stories of life on the 
range, and of former warfares between cattle- 
men and sheep-raisers. 


86 The Rambler Club’s 

Willie began to liven up a bit, his half-im- 
pertinent remarks sometimes causing a ripple 
of mirth. 

Naturally, much of the conversation turned 
upon the great boom at Border City, and its 
creators, Major Warfield Carroll and the avia- 
tors. 

“ I declare to goodness, I’m going over to 
Lone Pine mighty soon,” announced Cranny, 
enthusiastically. 

“ Wal, look out for yerself,” warned Pete 
Sanderson. “ I tell ye ’tweren’t never in- 
tended fur no man ter fly.” 

“ Oh, shucks ! ” laughed Cranny. 

“ Yes, Bob ; we drive our stock now to 
Border City,” Mr. Follett was saying, “ and 
so do many of the other ranchmen. Great 
improvements have been made since your 
last visit. Miles and miles of telephone wires 
are now strung out over the prairie, and 
many small sub-stations built. There are 
places where my foreman ” — his hand indi- 
cated Sam Skillet — “ or any of the cow- 
punchers can call me up whenever occasion 
demands it.” 

“ That’s great,” said Bob. 


Aeroplane 87 

“ Then, of course, we have a wire to Border 
City.” 

“ Ever talk to Major Carroll over the 
'phone ? ” asked Cranny. 

“ Many times.” 

“ Would you mind if I called him up? I’d 
like to tell him there’s a bunch o’ live-wire 
chaps out here, and all o’ them hopin’ to get 
a chance to examine that dirigible balloon o’ 
his.” 

“ Certainly you may,” said the ranchman, 
good-naturedly. “ You’ll find the ’phone over 
there in that corner.” 

“ I’ll do the best I can for you, fellows,” 
chirped Cranny. 

“ Let Mr. Clifton ’phone,” suggested Willie. 
“ Carroll’ll think it’s a man.” 

Cranny’s vigorous “ Hello ! ” presently 
sounded. But, to his disappointment, he 
found that the voice at the other end of 
the wire belonged to one of Major Carroll’s 
mechanicians. 

“ The boss isn’t here,” he heard. “ A 
crowd of boys want to see the balloon ? Yes, 
I’ll tell him. At Circle T Ranch, are you ? 
Call us up some time to-morrow. Good-bye I ” 


88 


The Rambler Club’s 


“ Why not have a word or two with your 
friends at Lone Pine?” suggested Mr. Fol- 
lett. 

“ A jolly good idea,” cried Cranny, enthusi- 
astically. 

Mr. Follett showed Cranny how to get the 
proper wire, and the big lad was presently 
roaring : 

“ Hello ; this is Cranny Beaumont ! — 
C-r-a-n-n-y ! Do you get me? Ha, ha! 
That you, Mr. Ogden ? Yes ; Bob Somers 
and the whole crowd are here. Been ex- 
pecting us, hey ? Thanks awfully. Oh, fine 
and dandy. When? — Just wait a second.” 

Cranny swung quickly around. 

“ Fellows,” he sang out, “ Mr. Ogden wants 
us to run over to Lone Pine day after to- 
morrow ; how about it ? He says they are 
going to try out a new air-ship that day. 
Whoop!” 

“ Why, of course we will,” said Bob. 

“ Yes, Mr. Ogden ; the bunch is comin’,” 
shouted Cranny, over the wire. “ How long? 
A few weeks, perhaps. What — I ? Oh, I’m 
out here on business.” 

“ Listen to that ! ” chirruped Willie. “ On 


Aeroplane 89 

business ! What an awful one. Much busi- 
ness he’ll attend to.” 

“ Here, Bob, Mr. Ogden wants to speak to 
you.” 

Bob took Cranny’s place at the ’phone, and 
held quite an extended conversation with Mr. 
Benjamin Ogden, the inventor, father of 
Robert and Ferdinand. And the younger 
men, too, sent their voices over the slender 
wire which stretched across the great prairie. 

“ Wal, arter all, pards, ye’re a-goin’ ter do it, 
hey?” growled Pete Sanderson, shaking his 
head disapprovingly. “ ’Tain’t nateral ter fly : 
’tweren’t intended nohow.” 

Sam Skillet, whose huge frame blocked the 
doorway, agreed. 

“ No ; I ’low as it ain’t,” he added. “ But 
when them thar youngsters set their minds 
on doin’ anythin’, Pete, outlaw bronc’s couldn’t 
stop ’em.” 

And Cranny, with a loud laugh, “ opined ” 
that he was right. 

“ I shall expect you boys to exercise the 
greatest care,” said Mr. Follett. 

“ Oh, don’t worry about us,” spoke up Bob. 
“ We’ll be careful.” 


9 o 


The Rambler Club’s 


“ An’, besides, they’ll have Doc Clifton 
along,” squeaked Willie. “ Do I want to go 
to Lone Pine ? Oh, I may as well.” 

“ You can’t ride a broncho, William,” 
snorted Tommy. 

“ And I don’t want to,” snapped Willie. 

“ Anyway, I’ll bet we have some dandy 
fun,” declared Cranny, in enthusiastic tones. 


CHAPTER VIII 


AT LONE PINE 

Lone Pine Ranch was situated not so many 
miles from Circle T, on the other side of a 
river whose waters cut an erratic course 
through the prairie. A straight line drawn 
between the houses would have passed across 
a wide stretch of yellow alkali plain, dotted 
with great sandstone buttes and patched with 
clumps of huge spiked cacti. 

In another direction, however, the prairie 
was covered with a growth of buffalo grass and 
occasional clumps of trees. Over this rich 
feeding ground Mr. Follett’s immense herds of 
longhorns roamed for miles and miles, even 
beyond Lone Pine Ranch. Standing isolated 
on the broad plain, the appearance of the solid 
ranch-house was strongly suggestive of the 
early pioneer days and Indian warfare. Close 
by stood a long, low building formerly used 
as a stable, and encircling both was a high 
stockade. 


91 


92 


The Rambler Club’s 


About the middle of the morning a caval- 
cade of youthful horsemen cantered briskly 
up before the entrance. 

“ I declare, that little chap is a nuisance,” 
grumbled Tom Clifton. “ The buckboard is 
at least a mile behind. Why, he hasn’t a bit 
of pluck. Jed offered him the tamest nag in 
the stable. Crickets ! Even then he was 
afraid.” 

“ But you must remember that a city lad 
can’t be expected to ride bronchos,” laughed 
Bob. “ He isn’t a seasoned veteran like you, 
Tom.” 

Tom drew himself up with conscious pride. 

“ I know, Bob ; but I had to make a start. 
Say, Cranny, isn’t he the freshest little dub ? 
If he weren’t your father’s ward, I’d have 
taught him a lesson before this.” 

“ Ha, ha ! ” roared Cranny. “ How wee 
Willie in the buckboard would tremble if he 
only heard that. Whoa, boy — whoa ! Bet 
the sight of those longhorns has given him 
the shivers. See any one in the ranch-house, 
Bob?” 

“No!” 

“Then let’s give a rousing yell. Whoa, 


93 


Aeroplane 

you pesky little beast. Ho, ho ! Remember 
that big pine, fellows ? Wonder if any of the 
charred hills are left.’' 

“ It was a dandy old tree,” said Tim Lovell, 
his words somewhat disconnected by the er- 
ratic movements of his lively little broncho. 

“ Didn’t take our old friend Hap Hazard 
long to do the business for it, though,” roared 
Dick. “ Dave, let’s hear you try to make a 
noise like an Indian.” 

“ Give a good old cowboy yell,” said 
Cranny. “ Gee Whitaker, but isn’t this just 
like old times ! Bother the buckboard ! 
Come on.” 

A touch of his spurs, and the broncho shot 
straight as an arrow through the stockade en- 
trance. The others swiftly followed. 

The unsightly piles of rubbish which once 
lay about the enclosure had been cleared 
away, while weeds and straggling bushes no 
longer grew about in luxuriant profusion. 
Even the charred stump of the ancient pine 
was gone. 

The pounding of horses’ hoofs, together with 
the whoops of six lusty-voiced boys, quickly 
roused the ranch-house. The heavy oaken 


94 


The Rambler Club’s 


door began to creak on its hinges, and before 
the bronchos had cantered up three men 
appeared on the steps. 

“ Hooray for the Lone Piners ! ” yelled 
Cranny, taking off his sombrero and waving 
it vigorously. “ Good-morning ! Whoop ! 
Here we are again ! ” 

“So I see, and just as lively as ever,” re- 
sponded the youngest of the trio, smiling 
with pleasure. “ Boys, we extend a most 
hearty welcome. The plains have seemed 
mighty dull since you left.” 

“ Very true, Ferd,” put in his father. 
“Just picket your horses, boys, and come 
right in.” 

Most of the lads had vaulted from their 
saddles by the time these words were spoken, 
and, in a marvelously short time, pins were 
driven deep into the ground and the bronchos 
tethered. Then followed an enthusiastic 
shaking of hands, while questions and an- 
swers flew thick and fast. 

There was so much to talk about and so 
many explanations to give that no one had 
made a move to enter the house when a buck- 
board driven by Jed Warren passed through 


Aeroplane 95 

the entrance in the stockade wall and rattled 
toward them. 

“Hello! Who is that?” exclaimed Rob 
Ogden, in surprise. 

Cranny Beaumont explained. 

“ If I ever cross that blooming prairie again, 
Fll know it ; and so will every one else,” 
grumbled Willie Sloan, hopping out of the 
buckboard before it had stopped. “ Goodness 
gracious, Warren, you don’t know how to 
drive. Say, Cran, I don’t wonder, now, that 
they punch the cattle, if the beasts are all as 
ugly as those we passed. Mr. Ogden ? Glad 
to meet you, sir ; and you too, sirs. Haven’t 
they got the longest horns ? Oh, my, I mean 
the cattle, of course. Anyone injured yet, 
Mr. Clifton? Going in the old farmhouse, 
eh? Some day I’ll pound Cran for getting 
me out here.” 

The lower floor of the house was divided 
into large, heavily-raftered rooms. Even a 
shaft of sunlight, stealing through one of the 
half-open windows and striking upon the op- 
posite wall, failed to remove a pervading air 
of gloom. 

“ Oh, say, Cran, I don’t like this a little 


The Rambler Club’s 


96 

bit,” exclaimed Willie, frankly. “ I’m going 
out on the steps.” 

“ Afraid of spooks, I suppose ! ” sniffed 
Tommy. 

“You an’ I’ll meet in the dueling arena 
some day, Mr. Clifton,” returned Willie, as 
he retraced his steps. 

Cranny laughed. 

“And to think that I told dad they ought 
to get chummy,” he murmured. 

“ Yes, boys, you may examine our machines,” 
said Mr. Ogden, Senior, in response to a ques- 
tion from Bob Somers. “ We have built 
three ; and the ‘ Ogden III ’ is the one which 
is entered for the coming meet.” 

“ If it isn’t the very latest word in aero- 
planes I’m much mistaken,” remarked Ferd. 
“ Know anything about ’em, boys? ” 

“ We hope to acquire a good deal of knowl- 
edge before leaving Lone Pine,” answered 
Dave, with a laugh. 

“ And I’ve no doubt you will. Let’s go 
now, father.” 

“ Impatient youth must be served, I sup- 
pose,” acquiesced the other, smilingly. 

“ Where’s wee Willie, I wonder ? ” ex- 


Aeroplane 97 

claimed Cranny, when they had filed out on 
the steps. 

“ Oh, he'd be afraid to go very far away," 
said Tommy. “ Don’t bother about him." 

“ It isn’t causin’ my brow to become fur- 
rowed with wrinkles," grinned Cranny. 

The crowd, closely following the inventor 
and his sons, cut diagonally across to the op- 
posite building, and, upon turning its corner, 
discovered Willie pulling aside a flap of the 
most curious-looking tent they had ever seen. 

“ Look out, son — for goodness’ sake don’t 
touch anything ! ’’ cried Mr. Ogden, hastily. 

“ Who’s touching anything, I’d like to 
know?" mumbled Willie, disconcertedly. 
“ What’s in there? " 

“ That is the 1 Ogden II,’ " answered the in- 
ventor, good-naturedly. “ Not nearly so fine 
as our latest model," he added. “ The aero- 
plane tent, boys, is quite a new departure, 
designed in order that experiments may be 
carried on wherever we choose, without the 
necessity of building hangars." 

“ Dandy ! " cried Beaumont. “ But isn’t it 
a whopping big machine, Mr. Ogden ? ’’ 

“ The spread of the planes is about forty- 


98 The Rambler Club’s 

five feet ; you shall see it presently. Inter- 
ested in aeroplanes, too ? ” he asked, turning 
toward Willie. 

“ Oh, a little. Say, does it really fly ? ” 

“ Like a bird,” laughed Robert. 

“ It’ll sure never go up with my hundred 
and seventy-five pound in it,” said Jed War- 
ren, decidedly. “ Goin’ to git it out? I’ll 
give ye a hand, boys.” 

By degrees the great aeroplane was drawn 
from its shelter, while the boys crowded 
around, examining every part of its mecha- 
nism exposed to view with the greatest in- 
terest. 

They saw two horizontal fabric-covered 
frames forty-five feet in length by seven wide, 
set apart a vertical distance of six feet, 
joined together by strong uprights. These 
constituted the two planes. From the center, 
at the rear, a long framework extended back- 
ward and was provided at its extremity with 
two vertical rudders and a horizontal tail- 
piece. Behind the two seats for the aviators 
stood a seven-cylinder engine, with a pair 
of propellers operated by chain gearing ranged 
on either side. Two small horizontal planes, 


99 


Aeroplane 

designed to aid in balancing the machine, as 
well as to assist in its elevating, were situated 
in front of the main planes. 

The aeroplane rested on rubber-tired swivel 
wheels, two under the forward plane, the 
others placed near the end of the tail. The 
lads noticed springs, too, as a precaution 
against damage when alighting. 

“Well, what do you think of it, boys?” 
asked Mr. Ogden. 

“ It’s a bird,” said Willie. “ Say, what 
are those little shutters for?” He pointed 
toward several flaps fastened to the main 
plane. 

“ Those we call aillerons, or balancing 
wings,” explained Rob, “ and they are 
worked by an automatic arrangement in 
such a manner that when one falls another 
rises, tending to steady the plane laterally.” 

“ What is the machine made of? ” asked 
Sam. 

“ The frame is of hard wood ; the cover- 
ing of varnished fabric, while the various 
parts are connected by wire stays. You will 
observe that the planes are slightly curved ; 
that is to prevent the air from escaping too 


lOO The Rambler Club’s 

freely from beneath, and gives more lifting 
power/’ 

“ How is the aeroplane operated ? ” asked 
Bob. 

“ Its movements are controlled by levers ; 
this one, for instance, operates the elevating 
planes in front ; and this moves the main 
planes, for the frame is jointed, you see, 
allowing the surfaces to be warped to a cer- 
tain extent. These pedals control the rudder 
and tail.” 

“ But what in the world makes it go up? ” 
asked Willie. 

“ Well, William actually seems to be wak- 
ing up a bit at last,” grunted Tommy. 

“ When the engine is started, the aeroplane 
is propelled swiftly over the ground. Natu- 
rally, the air is at once forced beneath the 
planes, exerting a powerful pressure upon 
their surfaces. Now, it follows that unless 
the aeroplane has sufficient weight to push 
this air downward or aside the machine is 
bound to overcome the force of gravity and 
rise.” 

“ Like a kite, I s’pose,” said Willie. 

“ Yes ; and the faster the pair of powerful 


loi 


Aeroplane 

propellers revolve the stronger, of course, be- 
comes this air pressure,” added Rob. “ By 
reducing the speed of the engine, the aero- 
plane can be made to descend ; and, I tell 
you, boys, volplaning, with the power shut 
off, is great sport.’ 7 

“ Volplaning ! What’s that ? ” cried Tom. 

“ It is simply gliding downward through 
space,” said Dave Brandon. “ I’ve seen some 
aviators who almost rivaled the ease and 
grace of birds in soaring to earth from great 
heights.” 

“ I’ll bet Dave knows all about aeroplanes,” 
said Dick. 

“ Only a little, and that in theory,” laughed 
the stout boy. 

“ To be a bird-man requires a cool head 
and a steady hand,” said Mr. Ogden. “ One 
needs to be continually on his guard against 
treacherous air currents ; although over a 
broad plain, like the one we have out here, 
aeroplaning is comparatively safe.” 

“ But near the hills and mountains it’s 
mighty different,” remarked Ferd. “ A stiff 
breeze meeting these obstructions is deflected 
off into all sorts of swirls and waves, making 


102 


The Rambler Club’s 


the machine difficult to manage. One minute 
we may be traveling against a wind of a cer- 
tain velocity, only to find ourselves suddenly 
plunged into another entirely different, or 
one cutting across at an angle.” 

“ And that is where the quickness of brain 
and hand come into play,” put in Mr. Ogden. 
“ The aviator, no matter how careful he may 
be, is always liable to be taken by surprise.” 

“ Well, it must be dandy sport, anyway,” 
cried Cranny, “ an’ I know you’re just achin’ 
to take one o’ us up, right now.” 

“ Don’t let it be Mr. Clifton,” said Willie, 
with one of his impish grins. “ We may 
need him and his first aid to the injured book 
yet.” 

“ You’ll be needing somebody’s aid pretty 
soon, I’m thinking,” murmured Tom, hotly. 

“ Well, I suppose we may as well get ready 
for our flight, Ferd,” remarked Mr. Ogden. 
“ Want to go up, Jed ? ” 

“ Wal, I reckon not. I sure ain’t hank- 
erin’ ter land kerflunk among a herd o’ long- 
horns.” 

“ Then, as you are out of the running, who 
shall it be ? Whoever wishes to experience 


Aeroplane 103 

the novel sensation of aeroplaning will be 
given a chance. But ” 

“ Hooray — hooray ! ” yelled Cranny, ex- 
citedly, amidst a burst of cheers. “ Shall I 
climb aboard now, Mr. Ogden ?” 

“ But, as I was about to say, it seems fitting 
that the first candidate for the honor should 
be ” 

“ Bob Somers ! ” cried Tommy, with all 
his force. 

And every one but Cranny immediately 
raised his voice in a loud roar of assent. 


CHAPTER IX 


IN THE AIR 

“ Much obliged, fellows,” laughed Bob, 
“ but I’m willing to step aside if Cranny is so 
anxious to get the first crack at it.” 

“ That’s all right, Bob — I’ll go the sec- 
ond trip,” grinned Cranny, good-naturedly. 
“ Only don’t hang the machine up in the 
clouds. It will be hard to wait for you.” 

“ You’ve been waiting seventeen long years 
for this ; and ten minutes more won’t do you 
a bit o’ harm,” chirped Willie. 

“ Oh, run along,” snapped Cranny. “ Get 
out of the way, now ! Can’t you see the 
machine is headed right toward you ? ” 

Mr. Ogden had already clambered to his 
place in the aviator’s seat. Bob followed, and 
eased himself down on a cushion close beside 
him, with his feet resting against a wooden bar. 

“ Mr. Aviator, what’s that big thing by the 
side of your head — a torpedo?” asked Willie. 

“ That is the gasoline tank,” explained Mr. 

104 


Aeroplane 105 

Ogden, “ and there is enough fuel in it to 
carry the machine for over one hundred miles. 
Remember, Bob, the roar of the engine will 
prevent much conversation in mid-air; so, in 
case you should begin to feel nervous, just 
give me a nudge — I’ll understand.” 

“ Don’t bother about me,” laughed Bob, as 
he looked down and ran his hand along the 
leather belt which stretched across his seat. 
“ This will hold me in.” 

“ Well, dizziness or light-headedness is very 
apt to come without warning during the first 
ascent. I shall rely upon you to keep per- 
fectly still.” 

“ I will, sir,” said Bob. “ Oh ! Nearly all 
of the stockade on the far side has been re- 
moved, hasn’t it ? I was so interested I didn’t 
notice it before.” 

Mr. Ogden smiled. 

“ We did that ourselves, Bob,” he said, “ and 
for obvious reasons. You needn’t think it 
was the work of your friend, Hap Hazard.” 

“Everything all ready !” called out Don. 
“ Keep a safe distance away, boys.” 

“Now we’re off!” said Mr. Ogden to his 
passenger. 


io6 The Rambler Club’s 

Bob Somers felt a thrill run through him. 
Grasping the supports, he awaited the momen- 
tous instant and found himself studying the 
face of the aviator, and vaguely wondering at 
his apparent unconcern. 

“ Ready, Bob? ” 

“ Ready, sir ! ” 

Mr. Ogden waved his hand, and his as- 
sistants gave the propellers a quick twirl. 

A pulsating roar immediately sounded. 
The great plane, responding almost instantly 
to the rapid revolutions, began to glide over 
the smooth ground, slowly at first, then gath- 
ering speed, until, light as a bird, it rose into 
the air. 

Bob Somers held his breath as the ground 
fell behind them. The wide break in the 
stockade appeared to open out to the right and 
left. Just a few seconds more, and the bi- 
plane, almost as gently as a sheet of paper 
taken up and wafted away on the breeze, lifted 
itself gently upward. 

Swifter and swifter it moved ; higher, still 
higher it rose, until broad reaches of prairie 
were disclosed to view. 

Bob Somers began to experience a series of 


107 


Aeroplane 

strange sensations. He seemed almost sus- 
pended without support in space. Below him 
he saw the ranch-house and outbuildings of 
Lone Pine, seemingly flattened against the 
prairie floor, while the boys and bronchos had 
already been left far to the rear. Everywhere 
great herds or scattered groups of cattle were 
coming into sight. 

Bob’s greatest surprise was the strength of 
the wind that blew against his face, forcing 
him at times to shield his eyes. 

Mr. Ogden frequently glanced at his passen- 
ger, and judged from his expression that he 
felt no fear or nervousness. 

The biplane gradually turned in a wide cir- 
cle — the planes tipped slightly, just enough, it 
seemed, to add a spice of danger — and they 
were headed back in the direction of Lone 
Pine. 

To the aviator the flight was one of the 
lowest he had ever taken, yet to Bob the alti- 
tude appeared unpleasantly high, causing him 
more than once to clutch the stout leather 
strap which held him securely to his seat. 

Speed such as an aeroplane makes seems to 
simply annihilate distance. It seemed only 


108 The Rambler Club’s 

a moment before the flying machine had 
reached Lone Pine again and was shooting by 
with a steady sweep. Bob could see that the 
boys had mounted their bronchos and were 
galloping about, waving their hands in greet- 
ing. 

“ Guess I'll be quite satisfied if Mr. Ogden 
doesn't ascend any higher," thought Bob, 
with a grim smile. He tried to accustom 
himself to studying the swift-moving objects 
below. Then, as the roar from the engine at 
his back lessened, a feeling of relief shot 
through him. His head had begun to feel a 
trifle queer. 

Again Mr. Ogden skilfully piloted the ma- 
chine, sending it still lower. As it took the 
curves, the planes, assailed by the breeze 
which struck full against them, wobbled and 
shivered. 

The boys were almost straight ahead, widely 
separated over the plain and keeping a safe 
distance from the ranch-house, in order to 
give the navigator of the air a chance to land. 

“ He's going to volplane now," mused Bob, 
presently. 

Mr. Ogden had stopped his engine. 


Aeroplane 109 

A delightful, easy gliding motion downward 
through space immediately followed. Bob 
Somers, lying back in his seat, saw, with a 
thrill of pleasure, the buildings and stockade 
apparently swinging swiftly toward them. 

Another series of rapid throbs came from the 
motor; the “ Ogden II ” slackened its pace 
until it seemed to be almost hovering over 
the ground. A few moments later, the ma- 
chine settled down, the springs and rubber- 
tired wheels so absorbing the shock of impact 
that Bob Somers felt only a gentle bump. 

When he stepped to the ground the odd 
sensation of light-headedness seemed only to 
increase ; there was a vague impression as of 
objects being still in motion. His footing 
seemed insecure. Bob, however, with a shrug 
of his shoulders, quickly pulled himself to- 
gether. 

“ Glorious — simply immense, fellows ! ” he 
cried, enthusiastically, as, with loud whoops, 
the broncho riders came cantering toward 
them. “ Greatest thing out.” 

“ It’s surely the greatest thing to be in,” 
laughed Cranny. “ My turn next.” 

“ Come off! ” protested Dick. 


1 10 


The Rambler Club’s 


“ Not off the aeroplane.” Cranny grinned. 
“ Here comes wee Willie.” 

“ Don't mention it,” growled Tom. 

“ You're lookin’ kinder pale, Somers,” com- 
mented Mr. Beaumont’s ward, ambling up. 
“ Feel weak in the legs, I'll bet. No, I'm not 
going to take a fly, Cran Beaumont.” 

“ Really enjoyed it, Bob ? ” asked Mr. Og- 
den. 

“ I should say so,” answered Bob. “ The 
way the machine responds to every move- 
ment of the driver is simply wonderful.” 

“ Taffy ! Pile it on,” said Willie. 

“ May I go up now, Mr. Ogden ? ” asked 
Cranny, his eyes flashing with anticipation. 

“ Oh, yes. I have time to take you all on 
short spins.” 

“ Rah, rah ! ” yelled Cranny. “ Watch now 
— see if you ever met a fellow before who 
could tether his bronc' so fast.” 

That morning, all but Willie Sloan took 
their first ride in an aeroplane. Tom's turn 
came last; it was also the lowest and shortest 
flight which Mr. Ogden had made. The boys 
suspected the reason for this when the tall lad 
was brought to earth once more. 


Ill 


Aeroplane 

“ I fear something is the matter with our 
Clifton,” remarked Willie, staring hard toward 
him. “ He seems to wobble.” 

“ I’ll make you wobble ! ” returned Tom, 
threateningly. 

“ Gracious ! Let me prescribe the rest cure 
for an hour. Don’t go up again, if you come 
down like that.” 

“ You’re afraid to try it yourself,” snapped 
Tom, highly exasperated. 

“ Oh, dear me, our Mr. Clifton’s nerves are 
so unstrung,” retorted Willie. 

“ Here, boys, lend me a hand,” interrupted 
Mr. Ogden, with a smile. “ We must put 
the biplane under cover again.” 

About two o’clock they all gathered in the 
great square dining-room of the ranch-house. 
Dinner was cooked and served by a young 
Mexican who wore the picturesque costume of 
his country. 

The boys found the highly-spiced and tasty 
dishes which he had prepared much to their 
liking, and lingered a long time at the table. 

“ I suppose you intend to stay in this part 
of the country for several weeks, boys?” re- 
marked Mr. Ogden, at length. 


112 


The Rambler Chib’s 


“ Yes, sir,” answered Bob. 

“ Have you any especial work that you in- 
tend to do?” 

“ That one has,” said Willie, pointing his 
finger at Cranny. “ You wouldn’t think it, to 
look at him, but he is going to be a rival of 
Major Warfield Carroll.” 

“ Ah, indeed ! ” 

“ Yes ; an’ I’m here to see that he gets to 
work. Mr. Beaumont thought he needed to 
be roused up a bit, and sent him along with 
the Ramblers and me. My, weren’t you get- 
tin’ awful stale, though, Cran ? ” 

“ Oh, don’t make me yawn,” snapped 
Cranny. “ What were you going to say, Mr. 
Ogden?” 

“ We — that is my sons and I — were wonder- 
ing if some of you lads could do us a great 
favor?” 

“ In what way ? ” 

“ Well, the work out here is about com- 
pleted, and our presence is really required at 
Border City. You see, there are still some 
details to be arranged in connection with the 
coming meet. Then, again, Major Carroll, who 
is at work on a new engine, needs help.” 


Aeroplane 113 

Ferd spoke up. “ It would take us about 
two weeks,” he said, “ and, of course, during 
that time our machines and stuff out here 
would have to be guarded.” 

“ Well, we're just the boys to do it,” began 
Cranny. 

“ The rest may be ; but not you,” inter- 
rupted Willie. “ The idea, Cran ! I’ll write 
your father this very night.” 

“ Little busybody,” sniffed Tom. 

“ Mr. Clifton will think so when I get real 
busy with him,” said Willie, with one of his 
famous grins. 

“You may count upon me, Mr. Ogden,” 
said Bob. 

And all but little Willie Sloan echoed his 
sentiments. 

“ Why, it will be just dandy to bunk in 
this old place for a week or two,” cried 
Dick. “When shall you want us, Mr. 
Ogden ? ” 

“ In a very few days. We certainly are 
heartily obliged to you.” 

“ Greatly in your debt, I’m sure,” said 
Rob. 

“ And we’ll try to repay it,” added Ferd. 


ii4 


The Rambler Club’s 


As they waited outside for Jed Warren to 
appear, Willie Sloan began to express his 
views on the subject. 

“ The idea of you fellows taking up a thing 
like that ! ” he roared, in great disgust. 
“ Isn’t Circle T bad enough? And stay in 
this old farmhouse for a week ? — No, sir ; not 
for me.” 

“ He calls it a farmhouse ! ” scoffed Tom. 

“And, besides, Cran Beaumont, you’ve got 
to get to work — have to. Do you hear me 
warble? ” 

“ See here, Willie ” — Cranny spoke in 
soothing tones — “ it’ll be no end o’ fun. I’ll 
teach you how to ride a bronc’.” 

“ Hide a bronc’ ? ” exclaimed Willie. 

“ Sure ! You’ll find it the greatest sport in 
the world.” 

“ But I don’t want to — I won’t, either. 
Goodness, is that fat boy asleep? ” 

It looked suspiciously like it. 

Dave was seated on the top step, with his 
back resting comfortably against the door. 

From the ancient stable came the steady 
and monotonous buzzing of a gasoline motor, 
while the stamping of bronchos tethered in 


Aeroplane 115 

the rear of the ranch-house could now and 
then be heard. 

“ Wake up, Dave ! ” called out Bob. 

“ I feel like giving him a good shake.” 
Willie looked almost as though he intended 
to carry out such a proceeding. “ He’s as 
bad as Cran — needs enough ginger to stock a 
grocery. You’re a bunch of softies — ever}' 
one o’ you. I won’t stay out here.” 

“ You’ll have to,” said Cranny. 

“ I will, hey ? Then I’ll become a kid- 
puncher, beginning with Mr. Clifton.” 

“ Here comes Jed, to take the little chap 
back,” interrupted Tom. “ Hello, Jed, old 
boy ! ” 

The cowboy galloped up. 

“ Hello, youngsters ! Me an’ Pete saw that 
there machine a-scootin’ around in the air. 
Any o’ you lads have the nerve to try it? ” 

“ Did we ? — Well, I should rather say so — 
all but this little chap here,” exclaimed Tom, 
proudly, pointing to Willie. 

“ An’ I kin say they were sartingly a 
bunch o’ pale ones when they kim down,” 
said Willie. 

“I don’t blame ’em,” grinned Jed. “A 


1 16 The Rambler Club’s 

little old pony for me, every time. Ready, 
Bob?” 

“ Yes, Jed, old boy.” 

While the horses were being hitched to 
the buckboard the crowd raced to the shop 
to say good-bye. They found the inventor 
and his two sons busily engaged in testing a 
motor for the “ Ogden III.” 

This biplane, Mr. Ogden explained, was a 
great advance on the others. Conveniently 
placed by the aviator’s seat was a stand to 
hold charts, compass and other instruments. 
An acetylene lamp also attracted Bob Somers’ 
attention. 

“ We have been thinking of making some 
flights at night,” explained the inventor, in 
answer to his inquiring look. 

“ I suppose you lads suffered great annoy- 
ance in not being able to talk during the 
flights,” remarked Rob, with a smile. 
“ This little arrangement allows the flyers 
to converse to some extent with one an- 
other.” 

“ A speakin’ tube ? ” exclaimed Cranny. 

“ Or telephone — if you choose to call it so. 
The science of aviation is constantly advanc- 


Aeroplane 117 

ing. Later on, a means of communication 
between aeroplanes in flight will probably 
be devised. What’s that, Bob — you want to 
take lessons in flying ? ” 

“ Yes, sir,” answered Bob. 

“ Just what I expected, Robert,” laughed 
Mr. Ogden, Senior, with a quizzical look at 
his son. 

“ I’m in on that scheme, too,” said Cranny, 
eagerly. 

“ You didn’t come out here to do the eagle 
act, Cran Beaumont. Your dad won’t stand 
for it,” put in Willie. 

“ Listen to the little tot ! ” laughed Cranny. 
“ How about it, Mr. Ogden ? ” 

“ We’ll have to consider the question,” 
laughed the inventor, evasively. “ Of course 
when you lads come back there will be plenty 
of opportunities to fly. If any show signs of 
aptitude as bird-men, why ” 

“ We will be glad to give a course of les- 
sons to pay for your services in helping us 
out,” broke in Ferd, with a smile. 

“ Oh, my, what a lot o’ birdies I shall see,” 
grinned Willie. “ Say, this is a machine shop, 
eh ? ” 


n8 The Rambler Club’s 

“ Did you think it was a dining-room ? ” 
asked Tom, with great sarcasm. 

“ Looks as if every kind o’ tool that was 
ever invented is here. What’s that thing at 
the other end, mister ? ” 

“ All that remains of the 1 Ogden 1/ son,” 
answered the aviator. “ It has been dis- 
mantled and some of the parts used for other 
machines.” 

The boys found the big workshop a very 
interesting place. A soft mellow light from 
the afternoon sun streamed in through several 
open windows, lighting in its course a long 
table upon which were placed various pieces 
of machinery and a great collection of tools. 
A large and a small glider rested against one 
wall. 

For once, Willie Sloan began to exhibit 
some signs of interest. He wandered about, 
poking his head into every corner of the shop, 
until Jed Warren suddenly appeared in the 
doorway. 

“ Time to git back, fellers ! ” he called. 
“ Cornin’?” 

“ I reckon as how we be, pard,” answered 
Willie. 


ng 


Aeroplane 

As Bob shook the inventor’s hand, he said : 
“ The crowd will be back in a few days ; and 
then I hope to begin those lessons.” 

Willie Sloan soon climbed into the buck- 
board, the boys mounted their bronchos, and, 
with a final shout and waving of hands to 
the three aeroplanists, the crowd was off. 

The buckboard, driven at a rattling pace 
by Jed Warren, sent little eddies of dust 
rolling behind it. In a short time the ranch- 
house had disappeared behind a patch of 
timber. 

They were now in the midst of the herds of 
cattle. 

Willie Sloan firmly clutched the rail at his 
side. Many misgivings once more rose within 
him, as he studied their powerful bodies and 
tremendous horns. Occasionally a bellowing 
came over the air. Several times he saw 
great steers pawing the ground and eying the 
approaching vehicle with an air of defiance. 

“ Ginger ! Wouldn’t it be awful if some o’ 
those ugly brutes should happen to bump 
into us,” he thought. “ Humph ! Cran and 
the others are getting away ahead.” 

The sunlight was now enveloping the prai- 


120 


The Rambler Club’s 


rie in a golden glow, while the cattle sent long 
purplish shadows over the ground. 

“ Have they lost you, Jed ? ” spoke up 
Willie, suddenly. 

Crack ! The whip snapped and the buck- 
board increased its speed, until Willie fairly 
held his breath. 

“ Hold on, Warren — stop ! ” he commanded, 
fiercely. 

A few minutes later the driver’s grinning 
face was turned toward him. 

Willie doubled his little fist, and shook it 
within an inch of the cow-puncher’s nose. 

“ Don’t do that again,” he cried, furiously. 
“ You wouldn’t know how to drive a cow to 
market.” 

“ All right, sonny,” answered Jed, with ap- 
parent meekness. 

When the river was reached Jed followed 
its willow-covered banks for some distance, 
and, at length, forded the stream. Cranny, 
Tim Lovell and the Ramblers were now but 
tiny specks in the distance. Cattle still sur- 
rounded them on all sides, and it was a great 
relief to William Sloan when Circle T Ranch 
finally came into view. 


121 


Aeroplane 

By the time they arrived, the boys were 
lolling about the porch in careless ease. 
Valdez, the dark-skinned Mexican, came 
quickly forward and took charge of the buck- 
board and horses, while Willie climbed wear- 
ily to the ground. 

“ Where’s your hat, sonny ?” asked Jed, 
who noticed that his hair was blowing about 
in the breeze. 

“ About five miles back on the prairie, I 
guess.” 

The boys on the porch began to roar. 

“ What became of it?” demanded Cranny. 

“ That’s a nice question to ask, when I just 
told you. S’pose you mean how did it hap- 
pen ? ” 

“ Oh, we know you couldn’t help it,” re- 
turned the other. 

“ That old thing on the driver’s seat made 
those two poor nags nearly break their necks ; 
and the breeze was fierce. I had my hat on 
the seat. It must have blown off when I 
wasn’t looking.” 

“ Ha, ha ! ” laughed Cranny. “ That clears 
you, all right.” He winked at Bob. “ Hon- 
estly, now, didn’t we have a bully time ? ” 


122 


The Rambler Club’s 


“ Not enough to let you bully me into ever 
going back,” growled Willie, shaking a cloud 
of dust from his shoulders. 

“ Listen to the Insurrecto ! ” snickered 
Tom. 

“ There’ll be a revolution around here soon, 
Mr. Clifton, that’s sure.” 

Willie stepped up on the porch and flung 
himself down on a stool. 

“ Say, Cran, that workshop wasn’t half bad, 
though,” he added, brightening up. 

“ Best I ever saw,” answered the big lad, 
enthusiastically. 

“ I guess it is the only one you ever saw.” 

At the table, Bob Somers explained to Mr. 
Follett their intention of making a stay at 
Lone Pine. 

“ Well, Bob, I should be sorry to lose you,” 
said the ranchman. “ Still, if it will be of 
benefit to the Ogdens, I approve of your 
plan.” 

“ Cran can’t go,” said W 7 illie. 

“ Perhaps you might allow him a few days 
of grace,” suggested Mr. Follett, with a smile. 

For several days the boys enjoyed them- 
selves in various ways ; that is, all but Willie 


123 


Aeroplane 

Sloan. He generally moped about on the 
porch, gazing listlessly into space. Tim Lovell 
had made a special effort to be friendly, only 
to find himself rebuffed. 

“ I won't go back to that old farmhouse," 
declared Willie, one evening, to Cranny. 

The big lad pleaded and coaxed. 

“ Think of the fun you’ll have in that ma- 
chine shop," he remarked. 

“So I might — if those air-ship duffers 
weren’t there," said Willie, calmly. “Didn’t 
I see ’em with a don’t-touch look in their eyes 
all the time? Say, Cran, why couldn’t a fel- 
low fly to the moon in an air-ship — a balloon, 
I mean ? ’’ 

“ Ask Major Carroll, when you make his 
acquaintance." 

“ My ! Your ignorance is something awful." 

“ We’re goin’ to Lone Pine to-morrow," 
snapped Cranny, out of patience. 

“ Not I ; I haven’t any hat." 

“ If you never have another hat in your life, 
— it’s Lone Pine for you to-morrow ! " de- 
clared Cranny. 


CHAPTER X 


BOB TAKES A FLIGHT 

And Willie Sloan, in spite of his most vig- 
orous protests, did arrive early the next morn- 
ing, by means of the buckboard, at Lone Pine 
Ranch. 

A hat had been found for him, and, as its 
original owner was a man of good size, the fit 
was not all that could be desired. A piece of 
newspaper stuffed into the lining, however, 
prevented it from slipping over Willie’s ears. 

“ Here comes the Insurrecto,” grinned Tom, 
as the conveyance rattled up. 

Highly disgusted with everything and 
everybody, Willie made no reply. He 
promptly kicked a suit case off the buck- 
board, then another. 

“ Here — one of those is mine ! ” roared 
Tom. 

“ Come up and I’ll treat you the same way,” 
snorted Willie. “ How-de-do, Mr. Ogden ? 
Yes, quite well, sir, thank you.” 

124 


12 5 


Aeroplane 

“ Quit throwing that stuff around,” ordered 
Cranny, as suit case number three was about 
to follow the others. 

“ I can’t find my knife anywhere,” growled 
Willie — “ must have dropped it among this 
stuff.” 

Several pairs of hands helped to unload the 
vehicle, but the missing property was not dis- 
covered. 

“ That’s your fault, Cran Beaumont ; if we 
hadn’t come to this old farmhouse I’d 
have ” 

“ Let’s go in and see the rooms, Willie,” in- 
terrupted Dave Brandon, pleasantly. 

“ Sure ; no use lookin’ for that old ten- 
center ; it’s most likely lyin’ on the prairie 
five miles from here,” said Cranny. “ You’re 
a careless kid.” 

“ I couldn’t help it,” grumbled Willie, 
scrambling to the ground. 

The crowd followed the inventor and his 
sons into the house. 

“ Go right up-stairs, boys,” said Mr. Ogden, 
Senior. “ Any rooms but the two on the east- 
ern side are at your disposal.” 

Presently the lads were on the second floor 


126 


The Rambler Club’s 


walking through the various apartments. 
Some had queer-shaped recesses ; others clos- 
ets, but without a vestige of their doors re- 
maining. The light which came in through 
the dusty panes was not enough to dispel a 
heavy air of gloom. A few pieces of furniture, 
of a ponderous design, lifted themselves from 
obscurity by sharp touches of light and dense 
shadows. 

“ Oh, ginger ! If this isn’t the worst ever ! ” 
growled Willie, disgustedly. “ Bet nobody’s 
swung a broom in here since the year minus 
one. An’ I see cobwebs, too ! ” 

“ Mercy ! ” snickered Tom. 

“ You’ll be howling for it soon. Say, does 
that first-aid-to-the-injured book tell you what 
to do for a good hard bump on the nose? ” 

The crimson mounted as far as Tommy’s 
eyes. 

“ Eh ? ” he stammered. 

“ When I catch you alone, Mr. Clifton, 
volume two may come in handy. See here, 
Cran Beaumont, I’ll tell you right now, I 
won’t stay long in this old farmhouse.” 

Within a few minutes the boys had discov- 
ered that there wasn’t a bed in any of the 


12 ? 


Aeroplane 

rooms, the only thing suggestive of comfort- 
able repose being a mattress placed on the 
floor of the largest. What Willie said during 
the next few minutes resulted in such a roar 
of voices that Bob hastily stepped to the door 
and closed it. Cranny did most of the laugh- 
ing ; Tom was the angriest. 

But eventually it all came to an end. 
Willie had possession of the mattress, and 
Bob agreed to make a desperate effort to se- 
cure a pillow for him. Tim Lovell and 
Cranny decided to share the room, and had 
the privilege of taking any part of the floor 
they chose. 

“ Now, fellows, let’s get to work,” cried Bob 
Somers, briskly ; “ we’ll soon have these 
rooms looking several years younger.” 

With the exception of Dave and Willie, the 
crowd set vigorously to work. They broomed, 
scrubbed and dusted, until the long unoc- 
cupied rooms began to assume a positively 
cheerful appearance. Windows were thrown 
open, admitting the pure, fresh air that swept 
for miles over the prairie. By noon they 
surveyed their work with much satisfaction. 
Prints had been tacked on the walls ; even 


128 


The Rambler Club’s 


some of Dave Brandon’s oil sketches were 
hung up for critical eyes to examine. 

14 Humph ! ” exclaimed Willie, intently 
gazing at a sunset. “ Ever sell any ? ” 

“ Never did,” laughed the stout lad. 

“ I shouldn’t think you could. What’s the 
use o’ painting? ” 

“ To inculcate a love and understanding of 
nature in myself, and to help others in the same 
way.” 

“ If a fellow ever saw a real sundown like 
that he might think it was the end of the 
world, and yell for help.” 

“ Why, it’s simply immense ! ” cried Tom, 
in amazement. 

“ Art critics often disagree,” laughed Dave. 

“ The painting’s disagreed with me already,” 
said Willie. 

The boys all had a fine appetite for dinner; 
and after it was over helped the inventor and 
his sons to get out the “ Ogden II.” Rob took 
several of the lads on short flights, while 
Willie spent his time in the workshop. 

Bob again broached to Mr. Ogden, Senior, 
the subject of taking lessons in the art of avi- 
ation. 


129 


Aeroplane 

The bird-man, disposed to be cautious, 
again spoke of the risks, but finally agreed to 
comply with his earnest request. 

“ And I wouldn’t consent, Bob,” he ex- 
plained, “ but for the fact that you seem to be 
one who is not disposed to take foolish chances.” 

“You can depend upon me, Mr. Ogden,” 
cried Bob, enthusiastically. 

The days seemed to follow one another 
swiftly at Lone Pine ; and except during the 
very hottest part of the afternoon the boys 
always managed to find something to occupy 
their attention. Ferd made many ascents, 
taking Bob with him, rising higher on each 
occasion, in order to accustom his pupil to 
dizzy altitudes. Bob’s nerves, however, proved 
equal to the task imposed upon them ; and it 
was agreed that soon he should be allowed to 
occupy the aviator’s seat. 

“ Bob,” exclaimed Mr. Ogden, one morning 
after breakfast, “ would you like to take a 
spin over to Border City ? ” 

“ Well, I should say so ! ” cried Bob. 

“ That ought to be a great trip,” said Tom. 

“ Perfectly grand ! ” came from Dick, in 
enthusiastic tones. 


130 


The Rambler Club’s 


With so many willing hands to draw the 
aeroplane from beneath its canvas covering 
the work was done in record time. 

At length Bob clambered into his seat, his 
eyes sparkling in pleasurable anticipation. 
It was a fine day, with a lively breeze blow- 
ing over the broad prairie. There was a fra- 
grance in the air — a scent of grass and other 
growing things pleasant to the senses. 

“ So-long, fellows ! ” yelled Bob. 

Cheery shouts came in response. The 
motor began to vibrate ; the “ Ogden II ” shot 
swiftly ahead, and, in another moment, yield- 
ing to the effect of its powerful propellers, left 
the ground. 

Bob watched the objects skimming beneath 
with ever-increasing speed. A backward 
glance showed him Lone Pine and the boys 
swiftly dropping behind. The horizon was 
rising, each instant revealing greater stretches 
of prairie. Chains of distant hills came into 
view, and, far to the west, seen through a 
whitish haze, the range of mountains ex- 
tended off in a series of jagged peaks. 

The slight sensation of dizziness and feeling 
of insecurity which Bob Somers had expe- 


* 3 * 


Aeroplane 

rienced daring his early flights was now 
almost entirely absent. He felt a strange 
exhilaration as the cool air rushing by fanned 
his cheeks. 

Higher, still higher climbed the biplane 
toward the white clouds above, through open- 
ings in which streamed bursts of sunlight 
that sent its shadow flying across prairie and 
cattle. The yellow alkali plain, with its 
curiously-shaped sandstone buttes, was soon 
plainly in view, while he could see a line of 
scrubby willows and a slender thread of bluish 
white showing between, to mark the meander- 
ing course of the river. 

Mr. Ogden, having confidence in the nerves 
of his passenger, soared still higher, the bi- 
plane headed against a gently resisting breeze. 
Occasionally as stronger or slanting gusts 
struck the planes, it rocked ; then, with al- 
most the buoyancy of a feather, recovered its 
equilibrium. 

Bob judged by the rapidity with which the 
clouds were scudding past that the machine 
was going at tremendous speed, but the earth, 
so far below, seemed to be slipping by at only 
a leisurely rate. He saw patches of timber 


132 


The Rambler Club’s 


enveloped in the deep blue of distance, acres 
of tumbleweed, and vast areas of bright green 
buffalo grass dotted here and there with cattle. 

Far off, as little patches of white, Circle T 
Ranch and its outbuildings presently shot 
into view. Eagerly, Bob Somers watched it 
growing larger. 

“ I wonder if Mr. Follett or any of the cow- 
punchers see us,” he mused, drawing his field- 
glass from its case. 

A glance through it brought within the 
range of his vision several tiny figures gath- 
ered before the ranch, all apparently staring 
hard at the flying machine. 

Mr. Ogden put on additional power. Then, 
responding to a turn of its rudder, the aero- 
plane cut a lane straight toward Circle T. 

A few moments later they shot above it, 
catching glimpses of figures moving about 
with apparently sloth-like speed. Again Mr. 
Ogden manipulated the rudder, and his bi- 
plane swept around in a curve, while the 
breeze, striking against it at an angle, sent 
the planes tipping slightly. 

Some distance ahead a series of partly- 
wooded hills hemmed in the plain. Beyond 


Aeroplane 133 

these, in the midst of a dark, loam-covered 
prairie, lay Border City. 

Bob eagerly watched for its appearance. 
He raised his field-glass again, bringing 
within the circle of light rugged, barren 
slopes or rich* growths of spruce, aspen and 
pine. 

“ Ah ha ! ” 

Beyond their crests the glass had picked 
out a collection of buildings extended for 
some distance in a crooked line. When the 
hills were beneath, Bob gazed upon the tops 
of high trees, into ridges, bluish in shadow, 
or at bald reddish rocks shining brightly as 
the shafts of sunlight passed across. 

Border City was looming up more clearly ; 
the cluster of light-colored houses seemed 
rushing toward them. The changing per- 
spective brought first one building into 
prominence, then another ; but the hangar 
of Major Carroll’s dirigible balloon and the 
big gas tank easily dominated the scene. 

Bob Somers, gazing earnestly through the 
field-glass, saw the outlying buildings be- 
ginning to detach themselves from the 
general mass. Finally the crooked street of 


*34 


The Rambler Club’s 


Border City, far below, flashed suddenly past, 
giving the two a momentary glimpse of ex- 
cited people rushing to and fro. 

Then the town began to fall rapidly behind. 
Mr. Ogden was piloting his machine directly 
over the railroad tracks. • 

“ Wonder where in the dickens he’s go- 
ing ? ” mused Bob. 

The aviator changed his course, showing 
perfect control, although the biplane tipped 
to an apparently dangerous angle. When it 
had righted itself, Bob found that they were 
speeding swiftly back toward the city. 

The roar of the engine suddenly ceased. 
A pleasant calm, broken only by the soft 
flutter of the breeze as it rushed by, followed. 

They were volplaning straight toward the 
hangar of Mr. Warfield Carroll’s dirigible 
balloon. 

The long glide through space brought 
with it a truly delightful sense of comfort. 
Bob Somers viewed the brown, loam-covered 
prairie rushing toward them with almost a 
feeling of regret. He could see groups of 
people gathered about the hangar. Their 
loud shouts of welcome, too, reached his ears. 


Aeroplane 135 

The wind was singing past now at a faster 
rate. Another pulsating roar began. Their 
speed gradually slackened under the power of 
the reversed propellers. 

Calmness again ; and a long, steady, breath- 
taking swoop ! There was a sudden change 
in the slant of the balancing planes. A final 
glide, then the biplane alighted on its wheels 
with scarcely a jar, and stopped within a hun- 
dred feet of the hangar. 


CHAPTER XI 


THE DIRIGIBLE 

The navigators of the air were almost im- 
mediately surrounded ; but the man who 
reached them first and extended his hand in 
greeting toward that of Mr. Ogden was Major 
Warfield Carroll, the New York financier. 
He glanced with an expression of wonder 
at the aviator's passenger. 

There was nothing very impressive about 
Major Carroll's appearance — not enough to 
cause any one to take a second look. He 
stood but little over five and a half feet high, 
and was slight, with a closely-cropped sandy 
mustache and gray-blue eyes. And it was 
not until he spoke that a truer estimate of the 
man could be had. His eyes then seemed to 
fairly flash ; his quick, nervous movements, 
and short, jerky sentences, uttered in a voice 
that vibrated with decision and energy, en- 
tirely changed his appearance. Even the 
most casual of observers could recognize in 
136 


137 


Aeroplane 

him a forceful character which nature had 
somehow concealed from view in his physical 
make-up. 

“ Glad to see you, Ogden,” he said, in 
hearty tones. “ Been expecting you all morn- 
ing. Your young friend, Bob Somers, eh? 
Glad to see you, too. Never were up in an 
aeroplane before, I suppose ? What ! Many 
times? Well, well ; an old hand at it, then ! ” 
“ Oh, just a few days old,” laughed Bob. 

“ Walters told me a short time ago that a 
boy had telephoned from Circle T Ranch — 
wanted to see our air-ship, I believe. Walters 
is one of my mechanics. Were you the one ? 
No ; but belong to a crowd that is over at the 
ranch, eh? Everything working all right 
with your new plane, Ogden ? ” 

“ Never better, Major Carroll. I think we 
shall be able to capture several prizes.” 

“Undoubtedly. Now, Bob, if you would 
like to examine the dirigible, come along. 
Walters ! ” His voice rose in a loud call. 
Then he added, quietly, “ Ogden, I want to 
consult with you on several matters, and the 
aeroplane, or, rather, this crowd of inquisitive 
visitors, may need a bit of watching.” 


138 The Rambler Club’s 

A man in blue overalls hove into view. 

Leaving the mechanician in charge, the 
three walked briskly toward the curious-look- 
ing hangar. It was a wooden structure com- 
pletely covering the dirigible and closed at 
the ends by canvas coverings. These, how- 
ever, were now drawn aside. 

Two mechanicians were hard at work, as 
the party entered. 

“ Great Scott ; isn’t it a whopper ! ” cried 
Bob, surveying the huge cigar-shaped hull 
which loomed high above them. 

“ Air-ships very much larger have been 
built,” said Major Carroll, “ but this — the 
1 Border City ’ it is called — answers my pur- 
pose sufficiently well.” 

“ Have you made any flights yet?” asked 
Bob. 

“ A dozen, at least ; and most of them satis- 
factory.” 

“ I can testify to that,” said Mr. Ogden. 

“ Perhaps a short description of the air-ship 
may interest you,” added Major Carroll, “ so, 
while Mr. Ogden and myself are conferring 
together, I’ll have Kindale — he’s my chief 
mechanician — supply it.” 


!39 


Aeroplane 

Bob thanked him. 

“ Yes siree ; the ‘ Border City ’ flies like an 
eagle,” said Kindale, a moment later. “ How 
long is the balloon ? About a hundred an’ 
fifty feet. The diameter’s a bit less’n forty. 
You see, like some rowboats, one end is 
sharply pointed, an’ Mother’s round, so as to 
give less resistance to the air.” 

As the two walked slowly along by the side 
of the huge air-ship Bob Somers marveled at 
the knowledge and skill which had been able 
to produce such a wonderful piece of work. 
The long car, attached to the keel by wire 
cables, was completely enclosed with rubber 
cloth, having mica-covered windows at the 
front and rear ends and an entrance in the 
middle. 

“ The bag is made o’ several thicknesses 
o’ rubber-coated fabric,” explained Kindale. 
“ Of course you know the whole thing ain’t 
filled with gas ? ” 

“ I believe the bag is divided into compart- 
ments,” said Bob. 

“ Sure ; an’ the reason is this : cold, or air 
pressure, contracts the gas, while heat, or les- 
sening of the air pressure, causes it to expand. 


140 


The Rambler Club’s 


Therefore, if we ascend to a very high alti- 
tude the gas expands considerably ; an’ sup- 
posin’ it’s on a blazin' hot day— why, then 
the envelope stands a good chance o' bustin', 
doesn’t it? " 

“ Certainly ! " responded Bob. 

“ Well, one o’ the compartments is really a 
little balloon inside the big one ; an’ it’s kept 
filled with air by a motor — -just pressure 
enough to balance the pressure of the gas 
around it.” 

“ I understand,” said Bob. 

“ An’ when the gas in the big envelope ex- 
pands it simply presses on the little balloon, 
forces out some of the air through a valve, 
and, in that way, gets room enough without 
doin’ any damage.” 

“ A mighty slick scheme.” 

“And when the gas contracts the motor 
drives more air into the balloonette, which 
fills out and keeps the big envelope inflated.” 

“ Sure thing,” remarked Bob. “ It regu- 
lates the pressure, so that they don’t have to 
let the gas escape.” 

“That’s it, exactly! Of course, though, 
we’re bound to lose some through leakage. 


Hi 


Aeroplane 

The framework o’ the car is made of light 
steel tubing. In the middle is our gasoline 
motor. These big screw propellers, just abreast 
on either side, are worked by shafts. The 
boss, if he happens to be in a good humor, 
may let you go aboard.” 

“ I only hope he will,” said Bob. “ Those 
planes at the front and rear ends are to main- 
tain the vertical equilibrium, I suppose?” 

“ Them big words don’t faze you, I see. 
Yes ; you’ve struck it. And the rudder, of 
course, is at the rear. Wait a second ; I’ll 
speak to the boss.” 

Kindale walked rapidly away, soon return- 
ing, his face wearing a good-natured grin. 

“ It’s all right, Bob ; he says you may climb 
aboard. Be a little careful, for it ain’t like 
gettin’ in an’ out of a Pullman.” 

Bob followed the mechanician up a small 
gangplank, and, stooping over, managed to 
get inside the car. It was so dark that for a 
few moments he was compelled to grope his 
way, guided only by the movements of Kin- 
dale’s shadowy form in advance. 

“ You’ll soon be able to see,” remarked the 
latter, cheerfully. “ Don’t be skeered ; there 


142 The Rambler Club’s 

ain’t no holes to drop through. Kind o’ cozy, 
ain’t it? ” 

“ I should say so,” said Bob. “ Must be 
great to fly, and have all the comforts of 
home.” 

His conductor laughed, and proceeded to 
raise several sections of the water-proof fabric 
which enclosed the car. Bob saw that they 
wound upon a series of rollers. 

“ The engine,” said Kindale, pointing it out. 

“ A fine one ; and mighty powerful — I can 
see that,” returned Bob. 

“ It is ; beats the engine of your aeroplane 
all hollow. In the rear we have a place to 
store provisions an’ water. Come up front.” 

Bob noted that everything about the car 
was handsomely finished, even to several 
seats ranged along the sides. A small table 
stood near the steering gear at the forward 
end. 

The perfection of the “ Border City’s ” nav- 
igation apparatus was also very apparent. 
The highly polished surfaces of wheel, com- 
pass, chronometer and levers caught and held 
the rays of light which entered from the open 
end of the hangar. Charts and a barometer 


H3 


Aeroplane 

were arranged in convenient places. A high- 
power telescope was fastened to a stand close 
by. 

“ It’s simply stunning ! ” cried Bob. “ Not 
a thing lacking, I’ll bet.” 

“ There certainly ain’t.” 

“ Go up or down easily ? ” 

“ Those levers you see operate a balancing 
device patented by the Major. As the weight 
shifts the air-ship is tilted, and the propellors 
do the rest. Say, Bob, them air-skimmers ain’t 
in it with this.” 

“ It certainly is more comfortable, and you 
have protection from the weather,” returned 
Bob, diplomatically. 

“ Sure ! Why, it’s jim-dandy to stand here 
steerin’, an’ look over the landscape. Only — 
the Major don’t give us no rest. Sometimes 
he gits ’bout seven ideas a minute ; an’ jist 
when we’re flyin’ good he’s apt to say, 1 Take 
her right down, Kindale. The whole crowd 
will have to hustle to-night.’ ” 

“ Then he is still working on it? ” inquired 
Bob. 

“ Still working on it ! Why, man alive, 
he’ll never git done tinkerin’ on it, the Major 


44 


The Rambler Club’s 


won’t — no siree. An’ if he ain’t the first man 
to cross the Atlantic in a balloon I miss my 
guess.” 

“Well, I wish him luck. Mighty nice 
man, isn’t he? ” 

“ He can be,” grinned Kindale, shrugging 
his shoulders. “ No ; the ‘ Border City ’ ain’t 
goin’ up to-da}^ — pretty soon, though. Say, 
you had plenty o’ grit to go up in that skim- 
mer.” 

“ Oh, not so much — after the first time.” 

“ Talk about the nerve o’ them cowboys I 
Why, they haven’t any. We’ve jollied them 
a bit, but couldn’t even get one to say he’d 
go up. They make me tired.” 

“Their courage is of a different kind,” 
laughed Bob. “ Did some one call ? ” 

“ It’s the boss. All right, Major ! ” yelled 
Kindale. “ Oh, you’re welcome, Bob. It’s 
easier talkin’ than workin’; I’d like to keep 
it up. Cornin’, Major. Wish to thunder he 
wasn’t always in such an awful rush.” 

At the bottom of the gangplank stood 
Major Carroll and Mr. Ogden. 

“ How do you like it, young man ? ” asked 
the former. 


HS 


Aeroplane 

“ It's simply great/' answered Bob, enthu- 
siastically. “ Never expected to see anything 
half so fine." 

“ Well, come over some day when we're go- 
ing up, and I'll take you along as a passen- 
ger." And, without waiting to hear Bob's 
thanks, he added, turning to his assistant, 
“ Kindale, I've got a new idea — a good one, 
Mr. Ogden thinks. Come right along." 

Kindale, with something that sounded like 
a deep sigh, thereupon walked abruptly away. 

A couple of cow-punchers and numerous 
residents of Border City were on hand to 
watch Mr. Ogden and his passenger take their 
places in the aeroplane. 

“ I wouldn't 1 go in that thing for a million 
dollars," said one of the former. 

“ Get out," grinned Walters. “ Before long 
you’ll be steerin' cows over the prairie by 
aeroplane. Stand back, everybody ! " 

“ I'm ready, Mr. Ogden. Good-bye, Wal- 
ters ! " said Bob. 

The sound of the motor blended in with a 
volley of cheers from the crowd. The biplane 
again soared aloft, and soon Border City was 
left far behind. 


146 The Rambler Club’s 

A noisy and enthusiastic welcome greeted 
the navigators, as the machine gracefully vol- 
planed to earth and landed without accident 
near the machine shop. 


CHAPTER XII 


“ he’s a puzzle ” 

That afternoon, Bob Somers took his first 
lesson in aerial navigation, his instructor be- 
ing Ferd Ogden. The aviator explained the 
importance of learning how to volplane. 

“ You see, Bob,” he said, “ in case of any 
accident befalling the engine your safety may 
depend upon landing at some particular point 
on the ground, so the pupil must often make 
attempts to alight within certain prescribed 
limits.” 

The two had just made a short flight, 
and were standing near the ranch-house 
in company with the other Ramblers and 
Cranny. 

“ That's a point I have often thought about,” 
remarked the latter loftily. 

“ Very good,” laughed Ferd. “ I suppose, 
Bob, you have been trying to study the effects 
of various air currents on the machine ? ” 

147 


148 The Rambler Club’s 


“ Yes, sir.” 

“ And I guess Dave has already written a 
treatise on the subject / 7 grinned Dick. 

Bob Somers had found that with the aero- 
plane under his own guidance, and every 
movement, therefore, dependent upon the way 
in which he manipulated the controlling 
levers, the sensation was entirely different 
from that of being merely a passenger. But 
he quickly gained confidence, and on the suc- 
ceeding days gradually accustomed himself to 
making short flights, always at low altitudes, 
and with Ferd seated beside him. 

“ Nothing is apt to disturb one’s nerve so 
much as a serious mishap at an early stage of 
the proceedings / 7 Ferd remarked. “ Go slow 
is a good motto for the beginner . 77 

Whatever misgivings the inventor and his 
sons may have had regarding Bob’s venture 
into their chosen field soon vanished, for they 
quickly realized that he was cool-headed and 
not disposed to be venturesome. 

Cranny Beaumont’s great ambition to be- 
come an air-man, however, did not meet with 
encouragement. Doctors and surgeons were 
not plentiful around Border City, so the Og- 


Aeroplane 149 

dens firmly intimated that his talents might 
be better turned into other channels. 

“ Cran ” was disposed to sulk tremendously 
at first, and Willie said a few things which 
caused the Ogdens to keep close around, for 
they were kind-hearted men and greatly pre- 
ferred that nothing should happen to him. 
Ferd, then, good-naturedly humored the big 
lad by taking him on several cross-country 
flights, and every one was able to breathe a 
little easier. 

Meanwhile the time for the aviators to 
leave was approaching. Each day had found 
them hard at work in the machine shop, put- 
ting the finishing touches on the “ Ogden 
III.” Bob and the others were often able to 
assist, and in this way the lad gained a prac- 
tical knowledge of the biplane’s construction 
and of the gasoline motor. 

As Willie Sloan spent almost his entire time 
in the shop, Bob Somers found many oppor- 
tunities to study him closely. Both he and 
Dave Brandon became convinced that Mr. 
Beaumont’s ward was a great deal sharper 
than Cranny supposed. The latter never 
failed to laugh at Willie’s odd questions, but 


iso 


The Rambler Club’s 


the other two had a growing suspicion that 
even those not intended to be humorous or 
irritating were, as Bob expressed it, “ Easy 
offerings to an apparently easy crowd.” 

“ Hoodwinkers,” added Dave. 

“ Nonsense ! ” roared Tom, upon hearing 
these observations. “ He’s so stupid that he 
even doesn’t know how to act sensibly. His 
thoughts wander, and every once in a while a 
little puff escapes from the safety-valve. If it 
wasn’t for that there would be an explosion 
big enough to wreck the shop.” 

Cranny roared again, and complimented 
Tom on his wisdom. 

“ No use to try and draw him out,” com- 
plained Dick. “ He’s a puzzle to me.” 

“ I know,” laughed Bob. “ But Willie 
needs different treatment from most boys.” 
Then, as Beaumont had walked away, he said, 
in a lower tone : “ Cranny couldn’t manage 
him in a hundred years.” 

“ Have you noticed how Willie acts in the 
shop ? ” asked Dave. 

“ Yes ; and if it wasn’t for Mr. Ogden and 
his sons he’d be pokin’ his face into every- 
thing,” said Dick. “ They keep after him all 


Aeroplane 

the time to keep him from meddling with 
things.” 

“ And that disturbs Willie, too ; it isn’t 
necessary a bit.” 

“ No, it isn’t,” agreed Dave ; “ and I 

rather think ” The stout boy paused. 

“ Think what? ” asked Bob. 

“ That from the way Cranny and his father 
talked Willie knew well enough they consid- 
ered him stupid.” 

“ And upon certain natures ” 

“ Such a course has a bad effect,” inter- 
rupted Dave. “ Encouragement does won- 
ders ; tell a chap he’s doing well, and it often 
spurs him on to greater efforts.” 

“ A little boost puts him on top of the 
fence,” grinned Dick. 

“ Now, as Mr. Beaumont was good enough 
to think we could liven up Willie Sloan, it’s 
about time that something was done.” 

“ There’s a lot in a boy finding out what 
occupation he likes best,” said Bob, thought- 
fully. 

Dave nodded. 

“ Willie certainly doesn’t seem to take any 
interest in business, art or literature,” he re- 


The Rambler Club’s 

marked, “ but when he gets around machinery 
I’ve often noticed a change in him — a great 
change.” 

“ So have I,” said Bob. 

“ Let us try to find out if the lad has a 
mechanical turn of mind.” 

“ Goodness ! You talk like two real old 
school-teachers,” grinned Dick. 

“ Wisdom and dignity go together.” Dave 
laughed, as he added : “ Here he comes now, 
with Cranny.” 

The big lad was pushing the little one in 
through the doorway, apparently because the 
latter didn’t move quite fast enough to suit 
him. 

“ Say, Somers, what do you think ? ” be- 
gan Cranny ; “ Ferd says we may use the 
‘ Ogden II ’ while they’re away at Border 
City.” 

“ Oh, Cran Beaumont,” squeaked Willie ; 
“you mean he said Bob Somers could.” 

“ Well, that’s exactly the same thing. 
Won’t it be bully?” 

“ Jolly ! ” laughed Bob. 

“ And he says you’ve made good as an 
aviator to a surprising degree,” added Willie. 


Aeroplane 153 

“ Don’t look pale under forty-three feet, I 
suppose. Cranny couldn’t ” 

“ Oh, it’s easy enough,” grumbled Cranny. 
“ They must have some grudge against me. In 
two lessons I’d have been soarin’ a mile high.” 

“ That’s an awful long distance to fall, isn’t 
it, Doctor Clifton ? ” grinned Willie. 

Tom stared hard, but made no reply. 

“ In a few days they are going to leave,” 
said Tim Lovell. 

“ And we’ll have to stay in this mean old 
farmhouse all by ourselves,” grumbled Willie. 
“ See here, Cran, when will you get started on 
your job ? ” 

“ In just a few days, Willie.” 

“ Gee ! A nice business man Mr. Beau- 
mont sent out here. Mr. Ogden the First is 
going to Border City to-morrow — says he’ll 
take me along.” 

“ What ! In the aeroplane ? ” cried Cranny, 
in astonishment. 

“ Aeroplane nothing ! ” 

“ Afraid, eh ? ” grunted Tom. 

“ I saw the awful effect it had on Doctor 
Clifton. My, what paleness ! What wobbly 
legs ! ” 


*54 


The Rambler Club’s 


“Haven’t I gone up a lot of times?” 
snapped Tom. “ You needn’t talk.” 

“ He takes you only about twenty-eight 
feet high. Yes, it’s true, Oran. I’m going 
off in the wagon to-morrow morning.” 

Mr. Ogden, soon appearing, verified this 
statement. 

“ Yes, boys,” he said ; “ some of our stuff 
has to be hauled over to Border City.” 

So, on the following morning, a vehicle 
which had belonged to the former occupants 
of Lone Pine was loaded with tools and 
various parts of motors. Willie clambered 
aboard ; then Mr. Ogden took his place be- 
hind a spirited pair of piebald ponies. 

It was a blazing hot day, with only a few 
clouds floating in the blue above. Scarcely a 
breath -of air seemed stirring to relieve the 
oppressive atmosphere. 

The crowd found the cool interior of the 
ranch-house inviting, and soon gathered in 
the big room down-stairs. 

“ I’ll bet when that little duffer gets back 
he’ll have an awful grouch,” said Cranny. 

“ The worst ever, I s’pose,” came from Tom. 

“ He strings you a lot, eh, lad ? ” 


*55 


Aeroplane 

Tom’s face darkened. 

“ But for you, Cranny, I’d have taught 
him a lesson before this,” he exclaimed, 
grimly. 

“ Oh, goodness ! ” snickered Cranny ; 
“ that’s the second time. Fellows, form 
an arbitration board, quick.” 

“ Some fireworks’ll start when Willie gets 
back,” predicted Sam Randall. 

Toward evening Mr. Beaumont’s ward, hot, 
dusty and tired, returned. But the expected 
“ grouch ” was lacking. Indeed, the boys 
had never seen him in a better humor. 

“ Don’t you feel well ? ” asked Cranny, with 
apparent solicitude. 

“ Sure ! Why, Cran ? ” 

“ Oh, nothing ! What’s the news ? ” 

“ Say, Cran, I saw the balloon that goes up 
in the air.” 

“ You did ? Why, that must be a new kind 
o’ a balloon ! ” laughed Cranny. 

“ Major What’s-his-name took me all 
through it.” 

“ An’ the gas didn’t even try to push you 
out? ” 

“ Oh, quit joking, Cran Beaumont. It’s a 


The Rambler Club’s 


156 

perfect whopper. An air-skimmer wouldn’t 
look much bigger’11 a mosquito, alongside of 
it. And say, what do you think ? ” 

“Well?” 

“ Major What’s-his-name asked me if I’d 
like to go up some time ; and I said, ‘ You 
bet ! This thing is most large enough to take 
a chap to the moon, isn’t it?’ You told me 
to ask — remember, Cran? Then he made 
this remark : ‘ On my next visit to the 

satellite I’ll take you along.’ ” 

“ Huh ! ” said Tom. 

“ Say, Cran, isn’t it awful odd we didn’t 
see in the papers that he’d been up to the 
moon ? ” 

“ Humph ! ” came from Tom. 

“ What’s a satellite, Cran ? ” 

“ Get a book, and find out.” 

“ Ginger, but your ignorance is becoming 
monotonous.” 

“ I declare, I’ve got to get a look at that 
balloon, myself,” exclaimed Cranny, with a 
great deal of emphasis. “ To-morrow I’ll 
take a business trip to Border City and look 
over the field.” 

“ A business trip ! ” scoffed Willie. “ Take 


Aeroplane 157 

Doctor Clifton along. He's tall enough to 
look over several fields." 

“ Who wants to go? ” went on the big lad, 
paying no attention to this flippancy. 

“ Count me in,” said Dick. 

“ And me, too," chimed in Tim Lovell. 

Accordingly, early on the following morn- 
ing, the three rode over to Border City. The 
business part of Cranny's trip consisted 
mainly in making a close inspection of Major 
Carroll's dirigible balloon. Afterward, Cranny 
and his friends rode straight to the Carroll 
Inn, where the big lad wrote a letter to his 
father. It was chiefly remarkable for the 
lack of information it contained, and ended 
with the surprising statement : “ A lot more 
facts in my next." 

“ A few days at the ranch, an' then I'll 
begin work in real earnest," he announced to 
his companions. 

“ If you don’t, Willie may get ahead of 
you," grinned Tim. 

And this remark made Cranny laugh. 

When the three reached Lone Pine again, 
they found that Bob Somers had made his 
first unaccompanied ascent in the “ Ogden II." 


158 The Rambler Club’s 


“ He’s almost a full-fledged aviator now,” 
commented Ferd. “ I’m very glad, boys, for 
day after to-morrow we leave Lone Pine in 
your care.” 


CHAPTER XIII 


WILLIE SHOWS HIS NERVE 

The “ day after to-morrow ” seemed to 
come around very quickly, and, as is usually 
the case when one is leaving for any length 
of time, an immense number of things had 
to be attended to at the last moment. It was 
a busy morning for all, except, of course, 
Willie Sloan and Dave. These two had a 
natural aptitude for relieving themselves of 
work. 

When the wagon had finally been loaded, 
the young Mexican hitched the horses to it, 
and the inventor and his sons were at last 
ready to bid a temporary good-bye to the 
scene of their successful labors. 

“ Now, Bob, don’t forget, the workshop is 
to be kept closed.” 

Mr. Ogden, Senior, spoke in a tone which, 
while low, reached the ears of Willie Sloan. 

“ All right, sir.” 

“ Of course, in case any occasion to use 
159 


160 The Rambler Club’s 


tools arises, you have my permission to take 
them. Now, may I rest assured that you will 
exercise the same care in making flights as 
before ? ” 

“ Indeed you may, sir ! ” 

“ That relieves my mind.” 

“ Oh, ginger ; the workshop is to be kept 
closed,” murmured Willie. “ Isn’t that awful 
luck?” 

The smile which had rested on his face im- 
mediately vanished. 

“ Good-bye, lads ! ” Mr. Ogden was calling. 
“ Yes, Bob ; one of us will ride over soon. 
Take care of yourselves.” 

“ We shall ! ” laughed Cranny. 

A chorus of “ Good-byes ” arose. The 
Mexican flapped his reins and the wagon 
wheels began to revolve. 

The crowd raced by the side of the vehicle as 
far as the stockade, and stood gazing out over 
the prairie as it rumbled slowly away. Not 
until a patch of timber had hidden the con- 
veyance did they turn toward the ranch-house. 

“ All alone ! ” said Sam. 

“ Dreadful situation — with no one but 
Willie to protect us,” wailed Dick. 


Aeroplane 161 

“ See here, Cran Beaumont, when are you 
going to get to work at Border City?” de- 
manded Willie. 

“ Mighty soon,” answered Cranny, with a 
cheerful grin. “ I’m thinking ’bout it.” 

“ And I guess that’s almost enough to give 
you brain fag. Say, I do wish those cattle 
would keep away from our yard. There’s an 
awful lot loafing around outside. Ever notice 
their eyes, Brandon? They roll frightfully.” 

“ What’s to be done, fellows?” asked Tim 
Lovell. 

“ Done? ” cried Willie. “ Why, there isn’t 
a thing we can do, now, in this old farm- 
house.” 

“ Well, it’s certain that you can’t stay in 
the machine shop poking into other people’s 
business all day,” said Cranny. 

“ When I want advice I’ll go to some one 
whom I can address as ‘ Mister,’ ” returned 
Willie, scornfully. “Going sky-planing to- 
day, Somers?” 

“ It’s my turn to go up with Bob,” urged 
Tim Lovell. 

“ Well, I hope he won’t drop the subject, 
then,” said Willie. “Go on — an’ up. Do I 


162 The Rambler Club’s 


ever intend to try it? No ! Haven’t got the 
nerve, eh? Say, Cran, what’s a mailed fist?” 

“ A letter, sometimes,” chuckled Cranny. 

“ Huh ; not so dense, after all,” said Willie. 
“ If I were your dad, the mailed fist I’d send 
would knock you flat on the prairie.” 

The first thing the boys did was to take 
stock of the provisions. Then they reached 
an agreement regarding the cooking, as usual, 
leaving Dave and Willie out of their calcula- 
tions. 

Later, Bob Somers, with Tim as his passen- 
ger, made a short cross-country flight. 

Willie, now unable to visit the machine 
shop, fell quickly back into his old listless 
ways. 

After lunch, the boys, with the exception 
of Dave, explored a subterranean passageway 
which led from the house to the stable, and 
found a great deal of fun and interest in the 
proceeding. 

The days began to pass with a somewhat 
monotonous regularity. Earty one morning, 
when the “ Ogden II ” was ready for a flight, 
Willie Sloan sauntered slowly into view. For 
some time, the boys had observed him carry- 


Aeroplane 163 

ing around a small, red-covered book ; but 
even Cranny’s efforts to discover wliat it was 
had met with failure. 

Tommy, walking over toward the biplane 
to take his seat beside Bob, saw the small 
volume, drop from Willie’s pocket, and in- 
stantly made a grab toward it. 

“ Here — let that alone, Dr. Thomas Clif- 
ton ! ” snapped Willie, in high dudgeon. 

The crimson flush, which, ever since Tom 
had grown so tall, came to his face on the 
slightest pretext, was once more in evidence. 

“ Well, what are you getting so wild about? ” 
he demanded. 

“ Wild ? I’ll get more’n wild. Don’t you 
dare touch that book, smarty ! ” 

“ Ha, ha ! Where’s that arbitration board ? ” 
roared Cranny. 

But Tom already had the book. 

“ You ^open it — -just you open it!” came 
from Willie. 

Tom Clifton’s forbearance was not equal to 
the task of accepting this command with equa- 
nimity, particularly as it was accompanied by 
a threatening movement of Willie’s fist. 

Deliberately, he turned the pages. 


164 


The Rambler Club’s 


“ Why, it’s called ‘ Practical Mechanics,’ fel- 
lows/’ he announced. 

Willie instantly tore the book from his 
grasp. 

“ You’ll catch it for that, you bean-stalk ! ” 
he piped, furiously. 

“ Little grouch ! Scary kid — afraid of 
everything ! ” cried Tommy, highly incensed 
and excited. “ Afraid of bronchos ! Afraid 
of tame old cows ! Afraid to go up in an 
aeroplane ! ” 

“ I am, eh ? I’ll show you how much afraid 
I am, Doctor Clifton ! ” 

To the astonishment of all, Willie deliber- 
ately elbowed the tall lad aside and laboriously 
climbed up by the side of Bob Somers. 

“ There’ll be the biggest muss anybod} 7 ever 
heard of, if you try to put me off, Somers,” he 
snapped. 

“ He’s only bluffing,” jeered Tommy. 
“ That’s my place, William ; step down ! ” 

“ Come an’ take it, Mr. First-aid-to-the-in- 
jured,” challenged Willie, doubling his fists. 

“ Stop jawing ! ” commanded Bob, his eyes 
twinkling with amusement. “ Do you really 
wish to go, Willie ? ” 


Aeroplane 165 

“ If I don't, nobody else shall," said Mr. 
Beaumont's ward, with emphasis, as he stared 
angrily at the grinning faces around. 
“Afraid, am I? We’ll see, bean-stalk — 
bean " 

“ Cut it out ! " commanded Bob. 

“ I can wallop anybody who says that I’m 
afraid," screeched Willie. 

“ Ha, ha ! " It was Cranny’s roar again. 
“ Who’d ever have believed it ? The little 
chap is actually beginning to show some signs 
of spunk at last ! " 

“ Now, Willie, do you still wish to go ? " 
asked Bob. 

“ Yes." 

“ Then let me fasten this strap about you." 

“ Hold on tight," said Cranny. 

“ Ready ? " asked the aviator, a moment 
later. 

“ Go on," answered Willie. 

“ Give him a good ride, Bob. We’re goin’ to 
saddle up an’ follow you," called out Cranny. 

“ Ho for a canter over the rolling plain ! " 
cried Dick. 

As several preliminary gasps came from the 
motor, the boys dashed pell-mell toward a 


166 The Rambler Club’s 


frame building in the rear, where their bron- 
chos were stabled. 

The “ Ogden II ” was off. 

Willie Sloan, clutching hold of the supports 
for dear life, instantly began to regret his hasty 
decision. The powerful engine was sending 
them along at a rate which, to his inexperi- 
enced eyes, seemed extremely dangerous. 
And the earth was falling away from them in 
a most curious and awe-inspiring manner. 

The boy shut his eyes to keep from view 
this dreadful sight. 

After many minutes had passed, he again 
dared to peer through half-opened lids. Al- 
though they were flying quite low, that one 
swift glance was enough to make his head 
swim. But the thought of Tom Clifton pre- 
vented the lad from reaching over to give 
Bob Somers a warning touch on the arm. 

“I just won't let old Doc Cliffy have a 
chance to grin at me," he reflected. 

He looked at the white fabric close around 
him ; then turned his eyes upward, to see a 
translucent yellowish light shining through 
the plane. He experienced an unpleasant 
sensation of being suspended in space. A 


Aeroplane 167 

bird flew by, so close that his eyes took in the 
measured beating of a pair of wings. His 
startled exclamation was drowned by the 
steadily throbbing motor. 

Bob, frequently glancing toward Willie, 
finally read upon his face evident signs of dis- 
tress, and, considerately, decided that it was 
time to bring his flight to a close. 

He turned his gaze earthward, and saw a 
shadow of the biplane skimming lightly across 
green fields and herds of cattle. He would 
have been glad to speak a reassuring word to 
his passenger, but the din of engine and whirr 
of propeller blades made this quite impossible. 

“ I can’t land anywhere about here,” he 
thought, with another look at the herds of 
longhorns just below. 

Bob observed that the animals, frightened 
by the monster of the air soaring not so high 
above their heads, were already showing signs 
of uneasiness. Some pawed the ground, or 
ran about, while others, with uplifted heads, 
stared defiantly toward them, as though ready 
to engage in battle. 

“ Guess I’ll have to go higher ; this might 
start a stampede,” he reflected. 


1 68 


The Rambler Club’s 


Accordingly, Bob manipulated the control 
levers, and the “ Ogden II ” began to climb 
steadily upward. 

Willie Sloan could not stand the sight of 
the earth receding. He again closed his eyes, 
and held on with a still tighter grip, as Bob 
finally sent the biplane around in a great 
curve. 

The planes, naturally, began to tip. 

Willie Sloan’s eyes shot open to their widest 
extent. Bob had risen just a little higher 
than his shaky nerves could stand. He stared 
hard for an instant, and then : 

“ Go down, Somers ; go down ! ” he yelled. 

The aviator gathered the sense of his words, 
and in his desire to ease the mind of his ex- 
cited passenger, sent the “ Ogden II ” again 
rushing toward a lower level. 

“ The little chap ought not to have tried 
it,” he reflected. “ I’ll have to take my 
chances on the cattle stampeding.” 

And now a new fear had entered Willie 
Sloan’s mind. He looked at the earth, appar- 
ently coming toward them with appalling 
speed ; he thought that Bob Somers had mis- 
understood him and intended to make an 



* y 


“ GO BACK TO THE RANCH 






















































Aeroplane 169 

effort to alight somewhere on the plain below. 
He looked at the dreaded steers, now in a state 
of great commotion. 

“ No — no ! Go back to the ranch, Somers ! ” 
he yelled, hoping -that his words might be 
heard. 

In his anxiety, he reached over and gave 
the aviator’s arm a violent jerk. 

It was an unfortunate move, at a critical 
moment. Instead of soaring off in a hori- 
zontal direction, in response to a clever han- 
dling of the control levers at the proper in- 
stant, as Bob had counted upon, the interfer- 
ence so affected his manipulation that the 
biplane continued on its downward course. 

Hastily, he attempted to undo the result of 
Willie’s imprudent action. It was a moment 
such as may happen in any aviator’s career, 
when a false move may send the machine 
crashing like a broken-winged bird to the 
ground. 

With the engine in reverse, and their mo- 
mentum only slightly checked, the biplane 
shot straight toward a rise in the prairie. 
Another instant, and they would be upon it. 
All Bob Somers hoped for was to prevent the 


170 


The Rambler Club’s 

machine from smashing against the ground 
with dangerous violence. 

But Willie Sloan was even more frightened 
than ever. A glance at Bob Somers’ knit 
forehead and firm-set lips gave him no en- 
couragement. A dreadful vision of being 
held fast with plunging longhorns on every 
side caused him to reach down and unfasten 
the leather strap which stretched across the 
seat. Then he partly rose to his feet. 

It was his second blunder, and, like the 
first, had a most disastrous effect. Several 
straggling steers were wildly attempting to 
race out of the biplane’s path, and, in spite of 
Bob’s quick effort to prevent it, one swinging 
directly beneath was struck a glancing blow 
by the descending ’plane. Willie Sloan, 
partly off his balance, became, the next in- 
stant, completely so. He began to topple — a 
sharp cry came from his lips — he was falling. 

The little red book, the innocent cause 
of this startling incident, slipped from his 
pocket, to strike an unappreciative steer in 
the eye, while Willie himself dropped squarely 
upon the back of another. 

Wildly he threw out his hands, and grasped 


Aeroplane 171 

with all his might an immense pair of 
horns. 

Five seconds later, Mr. Beaumont’s ward, 
still clinging desperately to his novel steed, 
was being carried away from the scene of the 
accident. 


CHAPTER XIV 


MILLING THE HERD 

When Willie Sloan made his unfortunate 
move, it took the six boys riding on the prai- 
rie but a moment to realize that something 
was wrong with the flying machine. 

“ Hello, Dick Travers, look at that ! ” called 
Cranny Beaumont to the nearest rider. 

Dick’s eyes were already staring hard 
toward the “ Ogden II.” 

“ Great Scott ; there’s something up ! ” he 
cried, putting spurs to his broncho. 

“ And there’ll be somethin’ down mighty 
soon, I’m thinkin’ ! ” answered Cranny. “ If 
those boys ever get caught among a herd of 
stampedin’ steers ” 

“ They’ll be in the worst fix of their young 
lives,” Dick flung excitedly over his shoulder. 

Riding at a rattling clip among the cattle 
wasn’t easy work. The animals, frightened 
by the huge object flying above their heads, 
were beginning to bellow and paw the ground. 
The sight of their wild eyes and excited 
172 


173 


Aeroplane 

movements, so suggestive of a headlong dash 
across the prairie, might have given even vet- 
eran cowboys a feeling of uneasiness. 

But all the lads, from different points on the 
prairie, unhesitatingly urged their horses into 
a gallop ; and, as they swung along, various 
currents of longhorns were sent eddying out 
of their paths. 

“ We’ll have to get to the biplane, and 
swing the cows around it ! ” yelled Cranny 
Beaumont. 

The “ Ogden II ” was rushing swiftly 
toward the earth, and he could hear the steady 
hum of its motor rising above the clatter of 
his horse’s hoofs. The big lad was now in 
his element ; his eyes flashed with excitement 
and determination. Skilfully he guided his 
horse between the longhorns, sometimes find- 
ing a great hulking body lumbering along at 
his side. Cranny realized that any instant 
the living barriers which shut him off from 
the open plain might begin an irresistible 
rush. Dick Travers was riding just ahead. 

Cranny, anxious to be the first on the 
scene, threw his whole energy into the 
task, and within a few minutes, he had over- 


>74 


The Rambler Club’s 


taken and was slowly forging ahead of his 
nearest rival. 

As the “ Ogden II ” approached the ground 
the commotion among the animals rapidly in- 
creased ; they were scattering wildly in all 
directions, threatening at every instant to col- 
lide with the bronchos. 

But, to Cranny's relief, he could see over 
the tops of moving bodies that the biplane 
was dropping upon a point comparatively free 
from cattle. 

“ We can swerve 'em off easily," he thought. 
“ Great Caesar ! " 

Cranny stood up in his stirrups, and gave a 
shrill whistle of astonishment. He had just 
been a witness to Willie Sloan's extraordinary 
mishap. Another whistle — this time of real 
alarm — escaped his lips, as he saw his father’s 
ward land on the back of the steer. 

“ Jupiter ! " he yelled, excitedly. 

He gave a glance toward the biplane set- 
tling down upon the ground, but even that one 
swift look was enough to show him the avia- 
tor jumping unharmed from his seat. 

“ Stand by Bob Somers, fellows ! " he yelled. 
“ I'll go after Willie Sloan." 


J 75 


Aeroplane 

The alighting of the “ Ogden II ” in the 
midst of the cattle immediately brought about 
the result which every one had feared. The 
gaps in the herd began closing up. Cranny 
Beaumont found the forward progress of his 
broncho almost checked — a tide of panic- 
stricken steers was forcing him off toward one 
side. 

The lad fought hard ; his tough rawhide 
continued to slash right and left. Stinging 
blows upon huge, unwieldy bodies drove them 
out of his path, and, presently, made an open- 
ing through which his snorting broncho 
plunged. 

The clouds of dust were becoming thicker ; 
Willie Sloan, desperately holding on to the 
horns of the steer, was already half obscured. 

As Cranny thought of the great danger 
which threatened the lad, a sudden pallor 
came over his face. With so many cattle to 
bar his progress, the task of overtaking Willie 
seemed almost impossible. 

“ And I’m away ahead of the others ! ” said 
Cranny, aloud. 

He again stood up in his stirrups, to look 
over a scene of wild confusion. A great herd 


176 The Rambler Club’s 


of steers, now in almost a compact mass, was 
sweeping over the plain, forcing his broncho 
along as irresistibly as a chip is carried on the 
surface of a running stream. A din of pound- 
ing hoofs was in the air, while, at times, deep- 
throated bellowings rose above it. 

Through a haze of whirling particles, 
Cranny managed to catch another glimpse of 
Willie ; and the sight nerved him to make 
one more desperate effort to force a passage 
through the living mass around him. 

Some distance off, a lone cow-puncher had 
turned, and was galloping swiftly toward the 
oncoming cattle. This grizzled veteran of the 
range, whose keen vision had enabled him to 
instantly grasp the situation, knew that quick 
action was necessary. 

As his brown-patched pony approached the 
foremost steers, he uttered a series of lusty 
yells. He was too old a hand to get caught 
in the resistless torrent of moving bodies. 
Single-handed, he was attempting to “ mill ” 
the herd, or swing the foremost cattle around, 
so as to slow up and finally stop those follow- 
ing in the rear. 

Sam Randall and Dick Travers, who had 


Aeroplane 177 

managed to reach the outer edge of the herd, 
came galloping up to reinforce him. 

“ Pete Sanderson ! ” cried Sam. 

“ He's the boy who can do it I ” yelled Dick. 
“ Come on ! " 

“ I'm a-swingin' 'em, boys ! " called out 
Pete. He ended his sentence with another 
wild yell. 

The boys saw the tide beginning to turn. 

“ As I live, here comes Cranny ! " shouted 
Dick. 

Looming up through the yellow dust, 
Cranny Beaumont, hot, hoarse and perspir- 
ing, could be seen riding straight toward 
them. 

“ Rah, rah ! Don't let up a second, fel- 
lows," he cried. An instant later he yelled : 

“ Whoop — look at this ! " 

Above the noise they became conscious of 
a loud hum. Almost as swift as an eagle's 
flight, the “Ogden II," after having made a 
wide’! circuit, was rushing toward them. A 
purplish shadow flitted across the backs of 
the herd. 

“ Bob Somers ! " shouted Cranny, hoarsely. 

There was no need for Pete Sanderson or 


178 The Rambler Club’s 

the boys to put forth any further efforts. 
The biplane, skimming low, was completing 
the work which the cow-puncher had begun. 

The tired cattle were sent swinging off at a 
sharp angle, with Sanderson and his allies 
close behind them. 

Pete’s eyes roved anxiously over the mass 
of moving backs. It was the first possible 
chance they had had of reaching Mr. Beau- 
mont’s ward. 

Never before in Cranny’s life had he ex- 
perienced such mingled feelings of fear and 
dread. Every moment visions of Willie 
Sloan losing his hold and being trampled 
underfoot were passing through his mind. 

“ I see him ; I see him ! ” he yelled, at 
length, in joyous tones. “ Look, Dick ! ” 

Dick Travers’ quick glance took in the 
small form of Willie Sloan. He saw him still 
clinging to the back of the animal, which 
was jammed in the mass some distance away. 

Most of the steers were now moving over 
the plain at a slow walk. 

“ We’ll soon git him out o’ thar ! ” declared 
Pete, vigorously. 

Tim Lovell, who had finally succeeded in 


Aeroplane 179 

fighting his way through the cattle, came gal- 
loping up. 

“ Hooray for the brave little chap ! ” he 
cried. “ Rah, rah ! Yes, Dick ; Tom’s all 
right. I saw him a few moments ago. Want 
any help, Pete? ” 

“ Ye’d best leave it all to me, boys,” com- 
manded the cow-puncher. 

He was going about his task in a thorough 
and systematic manner. One by one, steers 
were separated from the general mass, then 
driven aside in small bunches, until, at last, 
one particular longhorn was able to move 
freely about. 

Pete was alongside of him in an instant ; 
his brawny arm encircled the form of Willie 
Sloan, and, while Cranny and the others 
yelled long and heartily, he lifted the lad from 
his position and set him gently on the 
ground. 


CHAPTER XV 


THE UNDERGROUND PASSAGE 

“ Didn’t I tell ye it weren’t nateral ter fly ? 
Didn’t I say ’tweren’t never intended ? ” 
Straight-backed Pete Sanderson, standing 
with his hand on the bridle of his broncho, 
glared severely at the group of boys. Little 
Willie Sloan sat on the turf, while Cranny 
had taken a place close beside him. 

“ ’Tweren’t never intended,” repeated San- 
derson, in decided tones ; “ an’ I reckon ye’ll 
believe me now. It’s a positive wonder none 
o’ you younkers didn’t git killed in that stam- 
pede. Sure ye ain’t hurt none ? ” 

“ I was pretty near jolted into a jelly,” 
grumbled Willie, who, after a half hour’s 
rest, was beginning to recover his composure. 
“ An’ say — perhaps I didn’t have a hard time 
holding on to that old codger’s tusks ! ” 

“ You did wonders,” said Cranny, heartily. 
“ Bet you were scared stiff, eh ? ” 

“ Who wouldn’t have been ? Whew ! It 
180 


i8i 


Aeroplane 

was simply awful. Seemed as if there was 
about a million of the brutes behind me. 
Guess Somers has gone back to the farmhouse 
in his old bird-plane. I thought the thing 
was going to get smashed to bits.” 

“ Bob hovered overhead until he saw we 
were all safe,” said Dick. “ Wasn’t it bully, 
the way he helped mill the longhorns ? 
What made him come down in such an all- 
fired rush, Willie ? ” 

“ Somers couldn’t fly a kite,” growled Mr. 
Beaumont’s ward, non-committally. “ It was 
all Mr. Clifton’s fault. Goodness gracious — 
it’s gone ! ” 

“ Gone ? — What’s gone? ” demanded Cranny. 
“ Oh, if that isn’t the awfulest — meanest 
luck ! ” Willie clapped his hand frantically 
to each of his pockets in turn, then jumped to 
his feet and looked hastily on the ground. 
“ Sure as you look like a simpering idiot, Cran 
Beaumont, it’s gone ! ” 

“ What is?” 

“Why, that little red-covered book.” 
Willie seemed almost on the point of blubber- 
ing. “ I had it in this left-hand pocket. 
Look around, you chaps.” 


182 The Rambler Club’s 

The chaps did as requested, but, naturally, 
without result. The little red-covered book was 
lying, a shapeless mass, fully a half mile away. 

“ Oh, if I couldn’t paste old Doctor Clifton 
for this ! ” roared Willie, highly exasperated. 
“ It’s all his fault.” 

“ You’re a nice one, to talk like that, after 
the way we dived right in among the long- 
horns to help you,” cried Tom. 

“ But I want my book,” wailed Willie. “ It 
was such a dandy. Ginger — if I don’t get 
square with you for this, Mr. First-aid-to-the- 
injured ! ” 

“ Oh, you make me worse and worse tired ! ” 
scoffed Tom. 

“ Come on right now — if you aren’t afraid.” 
Willie, with a flourish of his fists, began to 
dance around. “ I’ll make you more tired,” 
he howled. “ I’ll punch you for every page in 
that book.” 

“ Quick, fellows — get the arbitration board 
to working,” laughed Cranny. “ Let’s have 
the treaty signed.” 

And at that instant Willie Sloan aimed a 
right hand uppercut at Tom’s chin, which, as 
the tall lad straightened up, fell short. 


Aeroplane 183 

“ He’s scared to scrap,” howled Willie. 
“ Get out of the way, Brandon, or I’ll hurt 
you, too.” 

A roar of merriment followed these words. 

“ Oh, you can laugh,” jeered the small boy, 
“but I’m not going to put up with any more 
funny business from Bean-stalk. That book 
cost somebody twenty-five cents.” 

“ Well, boys, I’ve got to git around the 
range,” broke in Pete. “ Now don’t forgit 
what I told ye — leave them thar arioplanes 
alone ; d’ye hear ? ’Tain’t nateral ter fly ; 
an’, what’s more, ’tweren’t never intended. 
An’ ye’d best tote yerselves over to the ranch- 
house afore the young un cleans up the 
bunch. It wouldn’t take much, nuther, ter 
git these hyar longhorns goin’ ag’in.” 

“ Only hope you’ll punch some of ’em good 
an’ plenty for me,” piped Willie. “ Take a 
squint at Mr. Clifton, Sanderson — see him 
before and after.” 

The cow-puncher guffawed loudly, sprang 
into the saddle, and, with a wave of his hand, 
galloped away. 

Willie positively refused to mount behind 
any of the boys. 


8 4 


The Rambler Club’s 


“ Never — nix ! ” he said. “ To-night, Doc 
Clifton, you’ll be jolly well surprised.” 

“ Shall I ? ” sniffed Tom. 

“ You will ! ” 

While they were still some distance from 
Lone Pine, Bob Somers rode out to meet them. 
He was more than delighted at the fortunate 
outcome of the exciting adventure, and, in 
answer to Dick Travers’ eager question about 
the biplane, told the crowd that beyond a 
slight injury to one of its propellers the ma- 
chine had escaped injury. He laughingly 
parried the questions which were fired toward 
him as to the reason for the strange behavior 
of the “ Ogden II.” So the boys, having a 
strong suspicion of the truth, finally desisted. 

Once again in the ranch-house, they set to 
work, and were soon busily engaged in the 
disposal of a cold lunch. 

Willie, during the course of the meal, sat 
hunched up in his chair, and occasionally 
answered questions in monosyllables, but took 
no active part in the conversation. Finally 
he slipped out of the room. 

“ Don’t wonder he feels a little grouchy,” 
remarked Beaumont, when he presently 


Aeroplane 185 

noticed his absence. “ Say, I never supposed 
the little chap had so much spunk — showed 
a lot o’ courage to-day, didn’t he ? ” 

“ There’s something in that boy,” said Dave, 
decidedly. 

“ Lot’s of impudence, for one thing,” mur- 
mured Tommy. 

“ Come, come, Tom ! ” laughed Dave ; “ be 
generous — broad-minded. Why, he may sur- 
prise us some day.” 

“ I’ll be surprised if he surprises us,” grinned 
Tom. 

“ Well, I shouldn’t. If you have ever 
studied the lives of famous men ” 

“ Goodness gracious, David Brandon, can 
you imagine for a second that William Sloan 
will ever become a great man ? ” cried Dick, 
his eyes twinkling. 

“ Dave’s cold meal has given him a night- 
mare while he’s still awake,” roared Tom. 

“ I suppose I must admit having been 
squelched again,” sighed the fat boy. “ Made 
a mistake in not yielding to that sleepy 
feeling the instant I took the last bite. 
And I am more than uncommonly drowsy, 


so 


186 The Rambler Club’s 

“ We all know wliat that means,” laughed 
Bob. 

The boys soon went up to their rooms, 
some to add a few lines to letters already 
partly written, others to read. 

To their surprise, Willie Sloan was nowhere 
to be found. 

As the afternoon wore on, and he did not 
appear, Cranny began to look annoyed, then 
anxious. He walked to the window and threw 
it open. 

“ Hello, Willie ! ” he shouted. 

“ Where in the world can the little chap 
be ? ” he remarked, after several of the others 
had called. 

“ Search me,” quoth Tim Lovell. 

“ A search all around might be better,” said 
Dick, dryly. “ Perhaps he’s taking a Marathon 
out on the prairie.” 

“ Not on your life,” scoffed Tom. “ He’s 
too scary for that.” 

All but Dave soon left the building in quest 
of Mr. Beaumont’s ward. At the stockade 
they stopped to shout long and earnestly, but, 
as before, no answering hail was borne on the 
gentle breeze. 


Aeroplane 187 

“ Depend upon it, he’s up to some funny 
business,” hinted Tom. 

“ I declare, I’m beginnin’ to get worried 
about him.” Cranny leaned against the wall, 
and looked searchingly over the vast ex- 
panse of plain. “ What do you think, 
Bob?” 

“ That he may be in the house — somewhere 
down-stairs.” 

“ But after all this screeching he would 
have come out.” 

“ Well, we might as well look.” 

It was rather dark in the big room, so Bob 
lighted one of the swinging lamps which hung 
over a center table. 

“ Of course he isn’t anywhere in here,” said 
Cranny. 

A few minutes’ search proved the truth of 
this assertion. 

“ Hello, what’s that? ” cried Sam, suddenly. 
He stooped to pick up a piece of brown wrap- 
ping paper which lay near the open fireplace. 
“ Why, it has some writing on it.” Sam’s 
eyebrows were arched in surprise. 

“ Goodness! bring it over to the light,” 
cried Tom, eagerly. 


i88 


The Rambler Club’s 


Sam obeyed ; all, including Dave, who had 
just entered the room, crowded closely around 
him. 

They read, written in a large, scrawling 
hand : 

“ Extra ! Look for the white trail. Search 
the underground passageway for the truth.” 

“ Search the underground passageway ! ” 
cried Dick, wonderingly. “ What in the 
mischief does that mean?” 

“ Sounds like a mystery, all right,” mur- 
mured Cranny. 

“ And, to clear it, we’d better light a lantern 
and search,” suggested Dave. 

His advice was acted upon. Crowding at 
Bob Somers’ heels, the now highly interested 
and mystified boys followed him toward a 
room at the western end of the house, where 
a stairway led down to the cellar. 

“ Hello — look ! ” cried Tommy. “ That 
must be the trail.” 

They could see bits of white paper scattered 
about, forming an irregular line that led to 
the doorway. 

“ What silly kind of joke is this, I 
wonder?” growled Tim. 


Aeroplane 189 

“ Follow the trail and find out,” said Sam, 
in a sepulchral whisper. 

The stairs were old and rickety ; the walls 
streaked with cobwebs. Every footstep echoed 
in a most uncanny fashion, and sent up eddies 
of dust, as the boards sprung beneath their 
heavy tread, while a smell of damp, mouldy 
earth assailed their nostrils. 

“ Ugh ! Isn’t this dismal ? ” remarked Tim 
Lovell. 

“ Twice over the limit — you can imagine 
what that means,” grunted Cranny. “ Just 
wait till I see that funny kid.” 

At the bottom of the steps, Bob Somers 
paused. His swinging lantern sent weird 
streaks of light through the blackness. 
Beams traveled rapidly over rough, scarred 
walls, or brought into view piles of rubbish. 

A trail of paper led across the hard earthen 
floor. 

“ Forward, march ! Fall into that awful 
black spot across the cellar — it’s the under- 
ground passageway,” cried Dick. 

“ Watch yourselves, fellows,” cautioned 
Tom. “ William may be up to some mischief. 
Great Scott ! What was that ? ” 


The Rambler Club’s 


190 

“ Only a badly scared rat,” laughed Bob. 

“I’ll dent him some if he comes this way,” 
declared Sam. 

Their voices and footfalls echoed weirdly 
through the dungeon-like cellar. 

“ What a nerve he had, to come down here 
alone,” said Tom, awesomely. 

“I told you there was something in that 
lad,” laughed Dave. 

“ But most of it ought to be beaten out with 
a flat piece of board,” returned Dick. 

They came to an abrupt stop at the entrance 
to the passageway. Bob, holding his lantern 
aloft, sent its rays flashing upon musty walls, 
thickly festooned in places with cobwebs. 

“ Whew ! It’s kind o’ unearthly in there,” 
said Cranny, peering over his shoulder. 

“ I should say rather too earthly, Cranny,” 
grinned Bob. 

“ This is enough to smother a fellow, too,” 
added Tom, with a sniff of disgust. 

“ Follow the trail anyway,” cried Dick 
Travers, who was rapidly becoming impatient. 

They fell in behind Bob Somers. 

“ Maybe Willie is going to shut us in, as a 
joke,” remarked Tom, in sudden alarm. 


1 9 1 


Aeroplane 

“ How — you tall goose ?” sniffed Sam. 

“ Hello — there it is ! ” 

“ Where — where? ” cried Tom. 

Bob Somers' hand fell upon a large piece of 
cardboard covered with writing. It rested 
upon a projecting stone. 

“ Right here, fellows," he announced, 
calmly. 


CHAPTER XVI 


THE ASTONISHING WILLIAM 

The echoes of many voices soon grew into 
such a roar that individual words became in- 
distinguishable. This babel of sound Bob 
Somers managed, with some difficulty, to still. 

“ Well, what’s he written on the thing?” 
demanded Cranny, impatiently. 

Much pushing and crowding followed, as 
Bob Somers turned the light of his lantern 
full on the scrawling letters. 

“ Gee whiz, fellows, just absorb this ! ” he 
cried. 

The crowd listened eagerly. 

“ What I think of — 

“ Bob Somers : not a bad sort. But if he 
can’t shoot any better than he flies an aero- 
plane, birds and animalculse are safe. 

“ Dick Travers : average kid. 

“ Sam Randall : almost ditto — a little less. 

“ Cran Beaumont : not enough paper to 
write my opinion on. 


192 


Aeroplane 


‘93 


“ Mr. Clifton 

“ Dave Brandon : uncommonly lazy ; pam- 
pered ; needs ginger. A course in live-wire 
action suggested. Can he write? Paint? 
No! 

“ Ha, ha ! Isn’t it hot out in the moon- 
light ? 

“ Mush is soft ; and so are — but what’s the 
use ? 

“P. S. The mailed fist! It’s coming. If 
Cran isn’t recalled when Mr. Beaumont gets 
my letter it will be a wonder. The combina- 
tion of Mr. Clifton, Lone Pine and long- 
horns has been too much — I have flown. Do 
not look for me. Your detective abilities are 
not equal to unraveling this mystery. Brain 
fag is bad. 

“ Yours, before the get-away, 

“ Willian Brinton Sloan, P. G. S.” 


“ Great Scott ! ” howled Cranny. “ My, but 
wouldn’t I like to punch that little duffer ! ” 

“ And just wait till I meet him,” added 
Tom, his eyes fixed on the dash which came 
after his name. 

“ And to think,” mused Cranny, “ that we 
dropped down to the center of the earth to get 
such a knock as this ! ” 


194 The Rambler Club’s 

“ An average kid ! ” groaned Dick, looking 
around. 

“ Suspected it yourself, I guess,” observed 
Cranny. And, while the echoes of boisterous 
laughter were reverberating, both Dick and 
Sam could be seen standing silently and 
solemnly a little apart from the group. 

“ Average ! ” repeated Sam, with a sudden 
thought. “ I suppose he means an average of 
ninety-five or over, same as we generally get 
at school.” 

“ And my artistic status has at last been 
established,” laughed Dave. 

The boys stared hard into each other’s 
faces for a moment, then the last angry 
expression vanished, and roars of merri- 
ment again thundered through the passage- 
way. 

“ My name isn’t on the list,” murmured 
Tim. “ Can’t make out whether he let me 
down easy, or handed over a dreadful slur — 
ignored me entirely, you know.” 

They followed Bob Somers back into the 
cellar, and then up-stairs, breathing the sweet- 
scented air which came in through an open 
window with sighs of relief. 


Aeroplane 195 

“ I’m bothered ! ” howled Cranny. “ Where 
could the boy have gone ? ” 

“ Not out on the prairie alone,” declared 
Tom. 

“ He’ll be back at grub time,” predicted 
Dick. 

“ Nervy little scamp, after all,” mused 
Cranny, his face now wearing a terrible 
frown. “ I wonder if he really did write to 
dad. He could have given the letter to one 
of the cowboys.” 

“ I’ll bet he has,” said Tom, cheerfully. 

“ You chaps get something to eat while 
Sam and I take a look around,” suggested 
Dick, with an innocent expression. 

“ Well, did you ever ! ” roared Tom, indig- 
nantly. “Why, it’s your turn to cook.” 

This sad fact was duly impressed upon Dick 
Travers’ mind by Cranny, who seized him by 
the collar and forcibly directed his steps 
toward the kitchen. 

During the preparation of the meal, the 
others scouted in various directions, going 
far beyond the stockade walls. A faint glim- 
mer of daylight still lingered on a high bank 
of clouds in the east ; the silent plains would 


196 The Rambler Club’s 

soon be bathed in the pale rays of the moon, 
now a trifle less than half full. Shadowy 
groups of cattle were browsing amidst the 
buffalo grass, or contentedly resting. 

Not a sign of Willie Sloan anywhere ! 
That was the report of each scouting party. 

The swinging lamps above the table threw 
a glare of light over highly disturbed counte- 
nances. It did not seem possible that Mr. 
Beaumont’s ward could actually have had the 
courage to run away ; but as time rolled on, 
the boys were obliged to reluctantly reach 
this conclusion. 

“ What shall we do ? ” asked Tim. 

“ Telephone to Circle T ; perhaps he went 
back there,” answered Bob. 

Cranny Beaumont, acting upon this sugges- 
tion, soon learned that neither Mr. Follett nor 
any of his men had seen Willie Sloan. 

“ My, but this does make me tired,” sniffed 
Cranny. “Now Mr. Follett is all worked up 
about it.” 

“ By this time to-morrow we’ll probably 
have Willie with us again.” Dave spoke in 
consoling tones. 

“ We certainly can’t do another thing to find 


197 


Aeroplane 

that chap to-night,” said Sam. “ Let’s make 
the best of it. Bet he’s just hiding some- 
where.” 

“ It’s a fine night for taking observations of 
the stars,” remarked Dave. “ Suppose we 
carry the telescope up on the roof? ” 

“ Good scheme,” approved Bob. 

Thereupon they ascended to the second floor, 
in a few moments reaching a storeroom, 
where a ladder rested against a trap-door. 
The stout boy was active enough when it came 
to doing anything he particularly cared about, 
so it took him but a short time to get the tel- 
escope and stand in position on the roof. 

In pointing the tube from one star to an- 
other, or over the almost limitless expanse of 
nature, and picking out from the obscurity 
groups of longhorns or clumps of trees, the 
boys were able to partly ease their minds. 

For about an hour they kept it up, then, 
one by one, descended to their rooms, where 
before long all were sound asleep. 

Tom Clifton finally awoke with a start. 

The sound of a bell, ringing crisp and sharp, 
came to his ears. Tom hastily threw aside his 
blankets and rose to a sitting position. 


198 The Rambler Club’s 

“ Goodness gracious ! ” he breathed excit- 
edly. “ It’s the ’phone down-stairs, sure 
enough ! ” 

The summons, singularly clear, in the 
dense silence of the night, was ringing con- 
tinuously. 

“ Bob ! ” cried Tom, scrambling to his feet 
— “ I say, Bob ! ” 

Bob Somers opened his eyes. 

“ Eh, Tom ? ” he queried. 

“ Don’t you hear that bell ? ” 

“ Well, I should rather say so.” 

The big room looked weird and dismal, 
with the greenish moonlight streaking across 
the rough board flooring and showing in 
queer-shaped patches on the opposite wall. 

Bob listened intently, as he jumped up, 
struck a match, and proceeded to light the 
lantern. 

“ Mighty odd, Tom — unless it’s about 
Willie,” he said. “ No ; don’t awaken Dave.” 

The two tiptoed down-stairs, Tom feeling 
decidedly creepy sensations coursing along 
his spine. 

The bell, which had stopped for an instant, 
started up afresh as they entered the room. 


>99 


Aeroplane 

Bob Somers made a dash toward the in- 
strument, and took the receiver from the 
hook. 

“ Hello, hello ! ” he called, in anxious 
tones. 

“ Hello, hello ! ” came an answer. “ Ha, 
ha ! ” 

It was a familiar voice. 

“ Willie— Willie Sloan ! ” cried Bob. 

“Where in the dickens are you, Willie ?” 

“ Ha, ha ! Did you fellows get my note, 
Somers? ” 

“ Yes — yes ! ” 

“ Which one was the maddest? ” 

“ Oh, quit that, Willie. Tell me where you 
are.” 

“ In a corkin’ nice room. But you wouldn’t 
like it — hasn’t got a single cobweb ; can’t 
write your name on the dust, either. 
Say ” 

“ Are you actually at Border City ? ” broke 
in Bob. 

A squeaky laugh came distinctly over the 
wire. 

“ Got the best in the Carroll Inn. Oh, but 
don’t I feel sorry for you poor chaps? How is 


200 The Rambler Club’s 

Lone Pine, an’ longhorns ? Do you believe in 
the recall of Gran Beaumont ? What’s the 
Referendum, anyway ? ” 

“ Did you walk all the way across the plain, 
Willie?” 

“ Sure ! Every time I thought of Mr. Clif- 
ton it made me jump ten feet. Ha, ha ! Has 
he grown any since I left? ” 

“ We’re coming over after you to-morrow, 
Willie.” 

“But you won’t get William Brinton Sloan, 
P. G. S. I declare war.” 

“ We’ll try our arbitration board, then,” 
laughed Bob. 

“ Won’t do a bit of good.” 

Just as Bob began to speak again, a peculiar 
buzzing sound came over the wire. It was 
broken by a jumble of words and occasional 
little crackles, and his energetic calls brought 
forth no response. 

“ Bill has evidently hung up the receiver,” 
remarked Bob ; “ he has said enough and cut 
us off sharp ; we are probably being laughed at.” 

“ Well, isn’t that chap the queerest ever ! ” 
cried Tom. “Why, he must have a bit of 
courage, after all.” 


201 


Aeroplane 

“ Plenty of it,” smiled Bob. “ It’s a big 
relief to know the lad’s all right. Who 
would ever have thought he’d do a trick like 
that?” 

“ Not I, for one. Won’t Cranny and the 
others be surprised? ” 

“ Well, rather. No, Tom ; we won’t wake 
’em up — the news will keep. Queer they 
didn’t hear that bell.” 

The two, talking in low tones, climbed softly 
up-stairs and into their room. Then, wrap- 
ping themselves in their blankets, they were 
soon unconscious of either time or place. 

In the morning, the news created a great 
sensation. 

“ Amazing ! ” was the word which followed 
a long-drawn-out whistle from Cranny. 

Dick looked puzzled. 

“ I can hardly believe it,” he murmured. 
“ Willie seemed so all-fired afraid of those 
longhorns.” 

“ Well, he did it, anyway — actually walked 
across the plains.” 

“ I’m the I-told-you-so fellow,” laughed 
Dave. “ Knew there was a lot in him.” 

Cranny reflected. 


202 


The Rambler Club’s 


“ Fellows,” lie presently observed, “ we 
ought to teach him a jolly good lesson. ” 

“ How ? ” asked Sam. 

“ Why, he has only a few dollars ; let him 
alone for several days, an’ he’ll wake up an’ 
be beggin’ us to trot over an’ get him.” 

“ I don’t know about that.” Dave shook 
his head. “ He’s really a brave little chap.” 

Cranny began pacing up and down the room. 

“ Fellows,” he said, “ I’ll have to get busy 
soon, or else the ‘ mailed fist ’ may be some- 
thing more than a joke.” He laughed dryly. 
“But I want to have a bit o’ fun first. Let 
me manage this affair.” 

And the others agreed. 

An hour later, Bob took his place on the 
“ Ogden II,” and, with Cranny Beaumont as 
his passenger, started off. By this time, all 
but Dave had saddled their bronchos and 
were ready for a canter across the plains. 

The stout boy waved his hand to the 
horsemen, then waited until the biplane had 
soared far off. 

“ I’ll do a bit of reading first,” he reflected, 
“ and afterward take a squint through the 
telescope.” 


203 


Aeroplane 

So Dave ambled back into the house, 
selected a book, settled himself in the most 
comfortable chair, and prepared for unalloyed 
pleasure. 

A few minutes later, the telephone bell 
rang sharply. 

“ Goodness ! I can’t rest even a second,” 
grumbled Dave. 

He lumbered slowly over, and answered the 
summons. 

“ Is that Lone Pine Ranch ? ” came in a 
crisp, businesslike voice. 

“ Yes, sir.” 

“ This is Major Warfield Carroll.” 

“ Oh, yes ! What can I do for you, Major 
Carroll?” 

“ I want to relieve your mind of any anxiety 
regarding Willie Sloan.” 

“ I’m very glad indeed to hear that.” 

“ He has been with me at the hangar all 
morning. I can tell you he’s a bright lad — 
something quite remarkable. I only hope, 
however, that it may not be a week or more 
before I can find some of my tools — he’s quite 
interested, you know.” 

“ Eh ? ” exclaimed Dave, in surprise. Then, 


204 


The Rambler Club’s 


feeling quite sure that the Major was deliver- 
ing himself of a gentle sarcasm, he began to 
smile broadly. 

“ Mr. Follett knows that he is here, so you 
boys needn’t bother about him for a while. 
Now, is Doctor Clifton there ? You’re in his 
charge, I suppose? ” 

Dave nearly fell backward from the tele- 
phone. 

“ The little scamp ! ” he muttered. 

“ Hello, hello ! ” came from the receiver ; 
“ 1 don’t seem able to catch your answers 
very clearly. Please tell the Doctor not to 
worry about the lad’s absence.” 

“ All right, sir,” answered Dave, whose 
smile was rapidly becoming broader. 

“ He intends to send you a letter by one of 
the cow-punchers. Good-bye ! ” 

“ Odd — odd — odd ! ” reflected Dave. “ Now, 
is there another grand old rumpus coming — 
or what? Guess the Major hasn’t learned to 
wear a ‘ don’t-touch ’ look, like the Ogdens. 
Quite a surprise, this.” 

Dave picked up his book, reseated himself, 
and, with his feet comfortably disposed on a 
stool, began to read. 


205 


Aeroplane 

A pleasant breeze came in through a 
window close by ; sometimes the lowing of 
a distant longhorn was borne to his ears ; 
but otherwise the silence seemed oppressive. 
Conditions were ideal for lulling the stout lad 
into a blissful slumber. 

Dave promptly capitulated, and the book 
dropped from his hand. 

When he once more sat up, it was only be- 
cause two boys, talking in a lively fashion, 
had entered the room. 

“ Caught you at it again,” laughed Bob. 

“ Well, I certainly had an uncommonly 
fine nap,” admitted Dave, with a yawn. 
“ Have a nice trip, fellows?” 

“ Didn’t we! ” cried Cranny. “ It was cer- 
tainly a corker. The ‘ Ogden II ’ sailed just 
like a bird. Hey ! Something to tell us, 
Dave ? What is it ? ” 

Dave explained. 

“ Ha, ha — ho, ho ! That Major’s a smart 
chap, all right,” laughed Cranny. “ Sized up 
the kid already ! Willie a bright lad ! Ho, 
ho ! Anyway, it’s bully news. I’ll stay here 
for about three days longer.” 

“ And didn’t you really make a landing at 


2o6 


The Rambler Club’s 


Border City ? I had an idea you would come 
back and tell me all about things.” 

“ We sailed right over top o’ the big Noah’s 
ark, but I wasn’t going to do anything that 
might spoil those great three days,” said 
Cranny. “ Besides, we saw a lot of little 
specks on the ground, and made up our minds 
that the smallest was Willie.” 

“ You’re a grand guardian,” laughed Dave. 

Within a short time, the steady, rhythmic 
sound of hoof-beats floated into the room — 
the others were returning. It didn’t take 
them long to stable their bronchos and race 
inside. 

“ Great Scott ! Major Carroll ’phoned you 
— says William is with him ? ” cried Tom, in 
astonishment. “ The nerve of him ! — I mean 
William, of course.” 

“ I’m tired of Willie as a subject of steady 
conversation,” growled Cranny. 

“ Forget him for a few days — do, please,” 
suggested Tim. 

“ I’ll make it three,” said Cran. 

The only other event of interest that day 
was a short visit from big Sam Skillet, fore- 
man of Circle T Ranch. 


207 


Aeroplane 

“ This here b’ilin’ weather ain’t a-goin’ ter 
last much longer, youngsters,” he announced, 
in his tremendous voice, as he was about to 
leave. 

“ You’ve got a weather eye, I s’pose,” 
grinned Cranny. 

“ I sartinly have ; an’ it’s always open. 
So-long ! ” 

Sam’s prediction proved to be correct. 
Toward evening the sky was entirely covered 
with grayish clouds, while a strong breeze 
blew over the great stretch of rolling prairie. 

On the following day, as the threatening 
weather continued, Bob Somers decided to test 
his skill as an aviator under more difficult 
and trying conditions by making one short 
flight, with Tim Lovell as a passenger. 

“ It’s the kind of work that needs a steady 
hand, Dave,” he said, on landing, “ but I 
have the hang of the thing pretty well, now.” 

“ I believe you could manage the < Ogden 
II ’ in a hurricane,” laughed Tom. 

Several days later, while all were seated 
around the breakfast table, the ring of the 
telephone broke in upon their conversation. 
Bob Somers sprang to answer it. 


208 


The Rambler Club’s 


The boys immediately noted by the sound 
of his voice that he seemed considerably sur- 
prised. 

“ What is it ? ” demanded Cranny. 

Bob turned his head away from the mouth- 
piece. 

“ There's a pretty stiff breeze blowing, eh, 
fellows ? ” was his unexpected question. 

“ Yes — yes ! Why ? ” cried Dick. 

Bob, without replying, hastily turned to 
the instrument again. 

“ All right, sir ; we’ll keep a sharp lookout, 
and ’phone you if we see it,” he said. “ Good- 
bye.” 

“ Well ? ” queried Tim Lovell, animatedly. 

“ Mr. Ogden ’phoned from the hangar at 
Border City that Major Carroll has made an 
ascent in his dirigible.” 

“ He’s done that before,” exclaimed Dave, 
wondering at Bob’s expression. “ Is anything 
the matter ? ” 

“ Mr. Ogden fears there is something wrong 
with the air-ship,” answered Bob. 


CHAPTER XVII 


THE TWO IN THE SKY 

“ Something wrong with the air-ship ! ” 
echoed Cranny Beaumont, in the greatest as- 
tonishment. 

“ How — in what way ? ” asked Dick, excit- 
edly. 

“ Give me a chance, fellows. Mr. Ogden 
says Major Carroll intended to stay up for only 
a short time. He was testing a new steering 
gear. The balloon, after making several 
turns, began to sail away, apparently unman- 
ageable.” 

“ Gee whiz ! ” Tim Lovell stared at the 
others. “ The wind’s just from the direction 
of Border City. It must be coming this 
way.” 

“ Let’s get busy, fellows,” cried Bob, briskly. 
“ We’ll run out the ‘ Ogden II.’ ” 

“ Why — what’s the use? ” asked Tom. 

“ Because they may need us to stand by 
’em.” 


209 


210 


The Rambler Club’s 


“ But you wouldn’t dare to try it in a 
breeze like this ! ” 

“ Of course I should — if necessary. It isn’t 
much worse than yesterday.” 

“ I’m going to skip up on the roof,” said 
Dave. “ May be able to sight the ‘ Border 
City.’ I’ll take the telescope with me.” 

While Bob, followed by several of the 
others, dashed out of the room, Dave Brandon, 
with Cranny at his heels, started up-stairs. 

Cranny, presently, banged open the trap- 
door, then, reaching down, took from the 
stout boy’s hands the telescope and stand. 

“ I see it — I see it ! ” he yelled, before Dave 
Brandon had even time to put his head and 
shoulders through the opening, “ and it’s 
sure coming this way.” 

Dave clambered out upon the gently-slop- 
ing roof. 

Coming from the direction of Border City 
was a cigar-shaped object, clearly defined 
against a gloomy expanse of clouds. The air- 
ship seemed sailing straight before the wind, 
and this, Dave Brandon calculated, would 
allow it to pass within half a mile of the 
ranch-house. 


21 1 


Aeroplane 

“ It looks to me as though Mr. Ogden were 
right,” commented Dave, as he got the instru- 
ment into position, while Cranny braced the 
stand. 

“ Hurry up ; let me get a squint,” pleaded 
the other. 

Dave put his eye to the telescope. 

Space instantly seemed to be annihilated ; 
the great air-ship loomed up grim and majestic, 
sailing apparently close at hand, its planes 
and rudder shining brightly against a threat- 
ening sky. At the forward end two figures 
were dimly visible behind one of the mica- 
covered windows. 

The impressive sight held Dave Brandon 
in its grip. Here and there, steel tubing or 
wire rope caught a gleam of light, while upon 
the top of the great yellowish gas-bag was 
reflected a grayish hue from the heavy clouds 
above. 

Nearer and nearer, moving with measured 
precision, came the “ Border City.” 

Dave drew a long breath. 

“ It’s headed straight for the mountains, 
Cranny,” he said. 

“ Do they want to get bumped against some 


212 


The Rambler Club’s 


high peak? Why in the world doesn’t Major 
Carroll come down ? ” 

“ Perhaps he isn’t willing to let any of the 
gas escape.” 

“ And the propellers aren’t working. Guess 
that explains it — something wrong with the 
engine.” 

“ Say, shall I have to drag you away ? ” 

Dave yielded his place. 

“ My, but isn’t it sailing along, though ! ” 
burst out Cranny. “ There goes some ballast 
overboard.” 

“ Trying to find a favorable current of air, 
I suppose,” said Dave. 

From below came the sound of voices. The 
“ Ogden II ” was being hauled from under 
its tent and made ready for a flight in record 
time. 

Suddenly Tim’s head appeared above the 
trap-door. 

“ Great Scott ! Didn’t think I’d see it so 
close as all that,” he said, climbing up. “ Isn’t 
it a great sight, eh ? Give me a chance at that, 
Cranny.” 

The observer was exhibiting unmistakable 
signs of excitement. 


213 


Aeroplane 

“ Yes, sir ; as I live, it’s true! ” he cried. 

“ What do you mean ? ” asked Tim, excit- 
edly. 

“ Well, well ! If it isn’t a fact, just let me 
know.” 

Cranny, with a look expressive of the great- 
est astonishment, stepped aside, while Dick 
took his place. 

By this time the “ Border City,” flying high, 
was almost abreast of Lone Pine. 

As Dick Travers looked through the tele- 
scope, every detail of the great air-ship flashed 
into view with wonderful distinctness. 

But it was upon two figures standing by 
the now open window that Dick concentrated 
his entire attention. An exclamation escaped 
him. There was no mistaking the smaller 
one of the two, whose face, framed in by a 
square of dark, seemed to be staring hard 
toward them. 

“ It’s Willie Sloan ! ” he cried. 

“ Willie Sloan ! ” echoed Dave, in startled 
tones. 

“ Sure ! I guess the other must be Major 
Warfield Carroll himself. And both of them 
seem to be trying to signal us.” 


214 


The Rambler Club’s 


“ I spotted Willie in a moment,” explained 
Cranny. “ Gee ! I don’t like this a little bit. 
If the balloon is ever carried over to the 
mountains ” 

The big lad’s sentence ended in a whistle. 

“And you can just bet that’s where she’s 
bound,” declared Tim. “ This wind is rising 
steadily. Hurry up, Bob,” he yelled, “or 
you’ll be too late ! ” 

His voice carried to the busy worker below, 
but it was some moments before Bob Somers 
scrambled hastily upon the roof, with the 
other eager and excited lads following him 
closely. 

Each received the news with some char- 
acteristic expression of astonishment. 

“ William aboard that air-ship ! ” cried Tom, 
almost incredulously. 

“ That’s where he is, son.” Cranny’s voice 
and manner betrayed a disturbed spirit. 

Bob Somers had his eye to the instrument. 

“Yes, fellows; I can see Major Carroll 
plainly,” he exclaimed. “ He’s looking this 
way through a field-glass. There isn’t a bit 
of doubt in my mind that he has lost control 
of the air-ship.” 


Aeroplane 215 

“ Think he will try to clear the mountains? ” 
queried Dave. 

“ Wouldn't that be better than attempting 
to land in such a wind as this?" Bob sug- 
gested. “ The Major doesn’t look scared — bet 
he knows what he’s doing.” 

“ But suppose that when they do have to 
come down, it’s in some mountain gorge?” 
cried Dick. “ They may end up by getting 
lost ; and, perhaps, with scarcely a bite to 
eat.” 

“ Or — or — somethin’ worse’n that — if the 
balloon doesn’t rise high enough to clear the 
mountain tops ! ” came from Tim Lovell. 

For a few moments, each, in turn, studied 
the now retreating air-ship through the glass. 
The magic of the telescope seemed to draw 
the cigar-shaped craft toward them, until it 
appeared as if but a tantalizingly short dis- 
tance away. 

“ It looks as if they only had to yell, an’ 
we could hear ’em,” said Tim Lovell. 

Soon, however, the details began to lose 
their crispness and become merged in the 
general mass. 

As the balloon drew steadily away, the boys 


2l6 


The Rambler Club’s 


all realized that in another hour the airmen 
might be facing an unpleasant, if not danger- 
ous situation. 

“ My, how I do hope that they can make a 
safe landing,” said Cranny. 

“ I’m going to chase them, anyway,” added 
Bob. “ Who wants to go along ? ” 

A chorus of “ Ayes ! ” was the immediate 
response. 

“ What’s the use, though, Bob?” queried 
Tom. “ You can’t lasso the ‘ Border City,’ 
like a longhorn, and tow her back.” 

“ No ! But there’s no telling what may 
happen. We can, at least, see where they 
land, and be ready to lend assistance, if 
possible.” 

“ It may be a case of plucking wee Willie 
and Major Carroll from a perch in the trees,” 
murmured Cranny. 

“ Come on ! ” cried Bob. 

They had soon gathered around the “ Ogden 
II,” while the aviator made a final examina- 
tion so as to be sure that everything was in 
working order. 

“ All right, fellows,” he announced. “ Now, 
whoever is going to make the trip with me 


Aeroplane 217 

must understand that it will be a mighty 
risky job.” 

Dave Brandon's round face had quite lost 
its accustomed cheery expression. 

“ I should say so, Bob. Perhaps ” 

Bob, anticipating the rest of the sentence, 
shook his head. 

“ Can't back out now, Dave,'' he said, 
firmly. Then, springing aboard the biplane, 
he fastened the strap which held him to his 
seat. 

A wordy warfare as to whom should be his 
passenger arose. Cranny speedily settled it 
by pushing the others away, and taking his 
place beside Bob Somers. 

“I dare anybody to put me off!” he 
challenged. 

“ All right for you ! ” growled Dick Travers. 

“ I didn't want little Dick, 4 average kid ' 
number one, to run into any danger,” grinned 
Cranny. “ Yes, Bob, I’m ready. All right, 
Dave, we’ll be careful. Let her rip ! ” 

“ Don't forget to 'phone Mr. Ogden, and 
tell him we’ve started after the ‘ Border City,' ” 
called the aviator. 

His hands rested on the levers. There was 


2l8 


The Rambler Club’s 


a moment of suppressed excitement. Then 
the engine began its steady roar, accompanied 
by a loud whirr from the propeller. 

As the biplane began to respond, a salvo of 
cheers and good wishes arose. The “ Ogden 
II ” had started on its dangerous voyage. 


CHAPTER XVIII 


THE RESCUE PARTY 

Low, scudding clouds were sailing fast 
across the sky ; but the current of air, blow- 
ing in an uninterrupted course for miles upon 
miles across the open prairie, was compara- 
tively steady. This gave the boys who re- 
mained behind some encouragement. 

Dave Brandon and Tim Lovell went back 
upon the roof of the ranch-house, where they 
studied the movements of the balloon and 
aeroplane until the telescope no longer pos- 
sessed the power to separate either from the 
gray background of sky and mountains. 

The crowd had no intention of remaining 
inactive. Only a dash across the prairie in 
search of their friends could relieve their im- 
patience and pent-up anxiety. The boys be- 
low, having saddled the bronchos, finally 
yelled for the stout historian and Tim to come 
down. 


219 


220 


The Rambler Club’s 


But before the summons was obeyed the 
sound of the telephone bell sent Dick Travers 
in leaps and bounds toward the house. 

“ Hello ! ” he was presently calling. 

“ Is that Lone Pine Ranch ? ” 

“ Yes ! ” 

“ It’s only me, pard.” Dick recognized Jed 
Warren’s voice. “ Who’s that a-talkin’ ? ” 

“ Travers I Where are you, Jed ? ” 

“ Out on the range — two mile away, at Mr. 
Follett’s sub-station. ’Tain’t much more’n a 
pile o’ boards throw’d together an’ a-standin’ 
on posts ; but it’s got a door an’ a winder, an’ 
a roof ter keep out ther rain.” 

“ I know ! ” exclaimed Dick, impatiently. 
“ But what do you want, Jed ? ” 

“ I seen them thar air-skimmers a-kitin’ off 
ter beat all creation ; an’ I know everythin’ 
weren’t all right. How ’bout it, Dick ? ” 

The lad explained. 

“ I thought so ! An’ a-goin’ ter chase ’em, 
eh ? Wal, I don’t blame ye for feelin’ kind 
o’ worked up. But ye’d best not wenture in 
them mountains alone. Say, pard, I’ll meet 
ye at Roarin’ Horse Junction. ’Member the 
place ? ” 


221 


Aeroplane 

“Sure thing, Jed. When the crowd was 
here before, we passed it.” 

“ Good I I’ve got a letter from that thar 
little maverick over to Border City.” 

“ Willie Sloan ? ” 

“The identical chap, pard. An’ I only 
hope he don’t come to no harm in that skim- 
mer. Now, don’t forgit, Travers ; wait for 
me at Roarin’ Horse.” 

Dick promised, and dashed away to tell his 
friends. 

“ That’s great ! ” cried Tom. “ Let’s get 
right off.” He vaulted into the saddle, while 
Dick raised his voice in another command to 
Dave and Tim. 

The two boys came hurrying forward, and 
they all started immediately. 

It was a long ride to Roaring Horse Junc- 
tion, so the boys allowed their bronchos to set 
their own pace. 

At the rendezvous, they found not only 
Jed, but Pete Sanderson, as well. The young 
cow-puncher had encountered the veteran on 
the range, and Straight-backed Pete needed 
no urging to accompany him. 

Guided by the cowboys, who were thor- 


222 


The Rambler Club’s 

oughly familiar with the trails, the party 
crossed the foot-hills, and at length reached 
the bolder elevations. 

Here they traveled from one point of van- 
tage to another, spending several hours in this 
way ; but no trace of either aeroplane or bal- 
loon could be discovered. 

In the midst of a forest on the sloping side 
of a mountain their bronchos were picketed, 
for night was coming on. A strong wind 
moaned and whistled through the trees, and 
toyed with the pine cones, and sent little 
eddies of dry leaves scurrying over the 
ground. 

“ The balloon seemed to come about in this 
direction/' declared Dave, who had taken his 
seat on a partly decayed log. 

“ I only hope them thar fellers an' the 
ones in the arioplane ain't been busted inter 
a thousand bits," said Pete. “ But didn’t I 
tell ye it weren’t never intended for men ter 
fly?" The big cow-puncher glared sternly 
from one to the other ; and, as only gloomy 
silence followed his words, began again : 
“ 'Tain't nateral ; an' only a bloomin' maver- 
ick 'ud think as how it were." 



WHAT IN THE WORLD HAS BECOME OF THEM ?” 



Aeroplane 223 

“ I do wonder what in the world has be- 
come of them,” wailed Tom. 

“ Ye sartinly couldn’t expect ter round 
them thar chaps up to onct,” said Jed. 
“ They might be a-sittin’ snug an’ comfort- 
able on t’ other side o’ a ridge, for all we 
know — eh, Pete ? ” 

The big cow-puncher, not disposed to take 
so cheerful a view of the situation, evaded 
this question. 

“ We’d best git a fire goin’, boys,” he said, 
“ an’ cook some grub.” 

Pete looked up at the sky showing between 
the dark, waving branches of the pines and 
saw a procession of low clouds scudding 
across. 

“ I suppose you’ve got a weather eye as 
good as Skillet’s, eh, Pete? ” said Cranny. 

“ I ’low there’s sure goin’ ter be a change 
soon, younker,” answered the cowboy, in- 
directly. “ I kin see signs o’ its breakin’ 
a’ready.” 

“ If the moon would only be obliging 
enough to come out, we could keep right on 
searching,” remarked Tim Lovell. 

“ Maybe it will, arter while. Git to 


224 


The Rambler Club’s 


hustling lads. A bite o’ grub won’t do nobody 
a bit o’ harm.” 

Even Dave Brandon skirmished around, 
and soon the sound of hatchets hacking and 
chopping away echoed through the darkening 
forest. A pleasant scent of pine and other 
vegetation was borne on the wind, which 
rushed along with scarcely a lull in its monot- 
onous chanting. A great part of Dave’s 
much prized and comfortable seat was re- 
duced to kindling wood while the stout boy 
was away gathering brush. 

Behind the shelter of a moss-covered 
boulder, Pete Sanderson started a fire, while 
several of the others opened saddle-bags, and 
from their capacious depths took bacon, 
crackers and cheese, and great quantities of 
corn-pones. 

Jed Warren assumed the duties of chef, 
with none wishing to dispute his authority. 

It was pleasant to loll about and sniff an 
appetizing odor of things cooking, and to 
see the big coffee-pot fiercely fuming and 
sputtering on a bed of hot coals. But the 
lads did not feel in any humor to enjoy it. 

The fire threw out a ruddy glow, one 


225 


Aeroplane 

minute picking from obscurity the stamping 
bronchos, and the next dropping them back 
into gloom. 

“ Well, I didn’t have a chance to read the 
letter from Willie that Jed brought/’ re- 
marked Cranny, suddenly. “ Guess I’ll do 
it now.” 

“ I only hope he’s safe somewhere,” mur- 
mured Tom. “ That little chap has some 
mighty good points in him.” 

“ I reckon as how he’s found out by this 
time that it ain’t nateral ter fly,” said Pete, 
straightening his tall, gaunt form. “ How 
many times hev I told ye it weren’t never 
intended ? ” 

“ Something less’n a thousand, I guess,” 
mumbled Cranny, holding Willie’s missive 
up to the light. 

“ Read it,” said Tim Lovell, eagerly. 

“ Dear Cran : — ” began the big lad : 

“ I have been thinking an awful lot about 
you and the old farmhouse. With all your 
broncho riding, and sky-planing, and mixing 
in the society of longhorns, it does seem to 
me, sometimes, that old Doctor Clifton will 
get a chance at you yet. 


226 


The Rambler Club’s 


“ Walters said that you and a couple of chaps 
came over to the. hangar one day, and that 
you looked and talked just the nerviest ever 
— honest fact, Cran. 

“ I explained that nerve cultivation is your 
specialty ; and Walters said : 4 His success is 
something wonderful/ It’s true, Cran. 

“ I’m having lots of fun here. Major Carroll 
isn’t like the Ogdens ; he’s one of the finest 
men in the world, and has the greatest col- 
lection of tools you ever saw.” 

“ Lots of fun I ” broke in Dick, with a puz- 
zled look. “ Perhaps, by this time, the Major 
thinks we have escaped from somewhere.” 

“ Willie Sloan is evidently beginning to 
find himself,” remarked Dave, quietly. 

“ And I wish to thunder we could find Willie 
Sloan,” said Cranny. He began to read again. 

“ He doesn’t put up an awful holler just 
because I touch a bit of scrap iron, and, once in 
a while, bust something. Say, Cran, did you 
know that they put gas in balloons? — It’s a fact. 

“ Major Carroll is going to take me up soon. 
Those old Ogden air-skimmers are not in it 
with a ship like Major Carroll’s. I guess one 
doesn’t feel as if he was sitting in a sieve, with 
the bottom likely to drop out any minute. 


227 


Aeroplane 

“ I told you I was going to write to my guard- 
ian, Cran ; and it's done — fact. Say, that letter 
is enough to blister the air, or burn the post- 
man’s hands. It ought to make a sensation.” 

The firelight flickering over Cranny’s face 
showed a sadly disturbed expression. 

“ Odd kid ! ” he commented, “ eh, fellows ? ” 

“ Awfully odd,” agreed Tom. 

“ An original,” drawled Dave. 

“ Major Carroll says he’ll be glad to meet 
our doctor, Thomas Cliffy ; but I told him his 
joy wouldn’t last very long. Here’s a bill for 
his M. D.-ship : 

u For the loss of one red-covered book 


(I allow two cents off) - - .23 

To one ride on longhorn — 

damage to nerves - - 1.00 

“ u muscles - - .50 

“ u bones - - .10 

1.83 

Deduction on account of the crowd 
diving in among the longhorns - .55 

Balance 1.28 


“ Remit by cowboy post. 

“ My regards to the bunch, 

“ William Brinton Sloan, 

P. G. S ” 


228 


The Rambler Club’s 


“ Crickets, that's a funny letter, all right," 
declared Tim Lovell, as Granny finished read- 
ing. 

“ I should say more than funny," added 
Tom. “ Wonder what P. G. S. stands for? " 

“ G — goose ; S ! — what does S mean ? " 
came from Sam Randall. 

“ What does P mean ? ” said Dick. 

“ Maybe it ought to be P. S. G. — Pretty 
Slow Goose," suggested Tom, suddenly recall- 
ing the shafts of sarcasm with which Willie 
had bombarded him on numerous occasions. 
Then, relenting, he added, “ But, after all, 
lie’s a rather nice little kid." 

“ Sure ! " admitted Cranny. 

A little later, they sat down to supper, and, 
in spite of their troubled state of mind, man- 
aged to dispose of every scrap. 

“ Oh, but don’t I wish the weather was 
better," said Dick, when the meal was over. 

“ I reckon we’ll be able to scout around a 
bit, after all," Pete assured them. “The 
moon is beginning to light up the clouds." 

The cow-puncher’s observation was true ; a 
faint silvery sheen soon became sufficiently 
strong for the waving tree tops to be outlined 


229 


Aeroplane 

against it. Above the steady roar of the 
wind were heard weird snapping sounds, as 
branches occasionally fell, or grated against 
their neighbors ; and the soft patter of leaves 
was broken by rustling noises strangely sug- 
gestive of footsteps coming and going amidst 
the brush. 

But the boys had long since become accus- 
tomed to the mysteries of the night, and paid 
no heed. Perhaps eyes belonging to wild in- 
habitants of the forest may have been, at 
times, intently fixed upon them, as they sat 
about. The flames rose higher, sending a 
flickering glare far into the depths. 

“ Clearing, at last ! ” cried Dick, whose 
patience had been sorely tried by the long 
wait. 

“ There’s a big hole in the clouds, sure as I 
live,” said Sam, exultingly. 

“ Then the scouting can begin mighty 
soon,” added Tom. 

Half an hour later, Pete Sanderson gave 
the order to start, and, after beating out every 
vestige of the fire, the boys sprang into the 
saddle. 

A shadowy group of horsemen, led by the 


230 


The Rambler Club’s 


cow-punchers, picked their way slowly be- 
tween the trees. It was still very obscure, 
but occasionally a silvery beam penetrated the 
darkness and streaked over the ground. 

For several hours, the determined riders 
kept up a steady march. At times, they were 
turned aside by impenetrable thickets, at 
others, obliged to pass through dark and for- 
bidding ravines, with beetling cliffs hanging 
overhead. Their progress, too, was challenged 
by huge boulders and rocks, and, here and 
there, a fallen tree. 

Finally, at a lofty elevation, they reached 
the far side of the mountain. There were 
plenty of gaps, now, in the flying clouds, 
through which the moonlight streamed with 
weird effect. A scene of wild and impressive 
grandeur was before them. 

“ Old Eagles’ Peak, boys ! ” exclaimed 
Pete, waving his hand toward a snow-capped 
summit which rose high above the timbered 
slopes. 

“ Magnificent ! ” murmured Dave. 

“ Perfectly corkin’ ! ” exclaimed Cranny. 

“ I reckon as how we might give a couple 
o’ good old cowboy yells, fellers,” said Jed. 


Aeroplane 231 

“ Sounds carry an awful long way in the 
mountains.” 

The crowd halloed again and again, but 
there was not even an echo to answer their 
calls. They looked eagerly about in every 
direction. 

But in all that vast landscape of valley 
and mountain, timbered slopes and areas of 
barren rock, there was nothing to reward 
their search. 

“ Now what's to be done? ” asked Tom, in 
anxious tones. 

“ Keep a-goin’, youngster,” answered Pete, 
gruffly. 1 ain’t s’prised. Many a time I 
told ye it weren’t nateral ter fly ; an’ now 
I s’picion ye’re beginnin’ to think so yer- 
selves.” 


CHAPTER XIX 


THE EAGLE 

With a strong wind at its back, the “ Ogden 
II ” rose gracefully in the air. Bob Somers 
realized that the utmost skill and care would 
be required, and was satisfied to keep at a 
comparatively low altitude. Gradually, how- 
ever, he increased the power, until they were 
racing along at dizzy speed. 

Far ahead the “ Border City ” appeared as 
a mere speck, but the aviator felt that if they 
were not obliged to descend the biplane would 
overtake the dirigible long before the moun- 
tains were reached. 

“ And by that time Major Carroll may have 
regained control,” he reflected. 

The wind droned and sighed against the 
planes, while occasionally a stronger gust, 
striking the machine obliquely, rocked it 
gently. Then the aillerons, or balancing 
devices, attached to the main plane began to 
work automatically, some bending up, others 
232 


2 33 


Aeroplane 

down, in this way creating a difference in the 
air pressure which quickly restored the biplane 
to an even keel. 

Bob Somers at length threw on full power. 
The pulsating roar of the engine and whirr of 
propeller blades were sent far off on the wind, 
carrying fear to the cattle browsing on the 
prairie below. 

As mile after mile slipped behind them, 
the two boys saw with great satisfaction the 
cigar-shaped hull no longer appearing as a 
patch of gray but beginning to show distinctly 
the effects of light and shade. The chain of 
mountains, too, which hemmed in the plain 
was looming up faintly through a dark, murky 
atmosphere. One lone snow-capped peak 
shone delicately white. 

As Bob sent the biplane nosing its way 
slightly higher, Cranny Beaumont’s thoughts 
were busy. So far, the “ Border City ” had 
not shown the slightest indication of descend- 
ing ; indeed, the big lad was quite certain that 
the runaway balloon was rising. 

“ Suppose we have to follow ’em right over 
the mountains,” he reflected. 

Almost every theory he had ever heard 


2 34 


The Rambler Club’s 


explained regarding the vagaries or dangers 
of air currents rushed into his mind with dis- 
concerting clearness. Each gust of wind 
which struck the planes gave him an unpleas- 
ant shock. 

“ How in the world will Bob Somers ever 
make a turn in a wind like this ? ” Cranny 
looked hard into the aviator’s face, as if to 
read his thoughts ; but all he saw was a deter- 
mined, set expression. 

The jagged mountain crests were now cut- 
ting more crisply against the sky. A long 
line of undulating foot-hills, some forest-cov- 
ered, others bald ridges, rolled back in ever- 
increasing height to the mountains beyond. 
And Cranny knew of many deep gorges, rush- 
ing torrents and high precipices which existed 
amid the wilderness. 

Now they were traveling over the sheep 
country. Flocks of thousands covered the 
plains. The boys could see them, terrified 
by the flying machine, scampering wildly 
about, and forming masses of a grayish white 
that continually changed their outlines. Some 
distance off, a watercourse fringed with wil- 
lows wound its snake-like way over the grass- 


2 35 


Aeroplane 

covered floor. Swiftly the biplane approached 
this gleaming line, passed across and left it far 
behind. 

The “ Border City ” was steadily growing 
larger. In a short time the two craft would 
be racing side by side. And what then? 

Bob Somers’ brow was furrowed with anxi- 
ety. He heartily wished that there was some 
means by which he could communicate with 
Major Carroll. 

While these perplexing thoughts were pass- 
ing through his mind the aviator’s attention 
was attracted by the sight of a bird flying 
some distance below. 

“ An eagle ! ” murmured Bob. 

Although the biplane was shooting ahead 
at a terrific rate, the great bird easily kept 
pace with it, occasionally soaring upward, as 
though its curiosity was aroused by this giant 
rival of the air. 

“ I only hope the old chap doesn’t get too 
inquisitive,” thought Bob. He exchanged 
glances with Cranny Beaumont. “ I’d hate 
to hurt him.” He smiled grimly, and looked 
toward his revolver. “ But maybe it’s a good 
thing that Cranny and I brought these along.” 


236 The Rambler Club’s 

As the eagle began to fly straight toward 
them, Bob operated the control levers again, 
and the biplane, responding, rose slightly 
higher. He kept his eyes fixed intently on 
the bird, and, in spite of their situation, could 
not help admiring the ease and grace of its 
movements. The great wings were beating 
the air with rhythmical precision. 

Higher, still higher, soared the eagle. A 
harsh, challenging scream rose faintly above 
the roar of engine and propeller. 

“ It surely won’t be foolish enough to attack 
us,” mused Bob. 

He again turned his eyes toward the “ Bor- 
der City.” The air-ship, silhouetted against 
the dark, lowering sky, presented an impress- 
ive spectacle. It was now not far distant, 
and the details were coming into view. 

Meanwhile the king of the air was keeping 
up the race. But Bob had too much to think 
about, for the moment, to even glance toward 
it. 

A strong cross-current of wind suddenly 
wobbled the planes, causing the aillerons to 
flop anew. The broad prairie had been left 
behind ; they were flying over a chain of rug- 


237 


Aeroplane 

ged foot-hills. The aviator could see, far below, 
deep gorges, masses of reddish rock, and green 
forests passing by in kaleidoscopic fashion. 

The mountain ahead, forming a stern and 
forbidding-looking barrier, rose high above 
them ; and it was now apparent that the 
snow-capped peak, which glistened strangely 
white in the darkening atmosphere, reared it- 
self immediately beyond. 

“ Ah ha ! ” muttered Bob. “ Major Carroll 
is throwing out ballast.” 

Quantities of sand, as bags were emptied, 
could be seen falling — curious misty patches 
of a lightish color that streaked downward in 
showers, to speedily spread out and fade from 
view. 

As patch after patch appeared, and melted 
away, the “ Border City ” rose perceptibly. 
The aeronauts had evidently decided to cross 
the mountains. 

“ If Major Carroll can’t rise high enough to 
clear those summits, they’ll be in awful dan- 
ger.” Bob Somers spoke his thoughts aloud. 
“ Crickets ! ” His face paled slightly under 
its coat of tan. “ I guess this is adventure 
enough for even Cranny Beaumont.” 


238 The Rambler Club’s 

The latter’s eyes were sparkling with ex- 
citement ; his gaze constantly shifted from the 
“ Border City ” to the eagle below, then toward 
the mountain peaks, which every instant 
seemed to present a more threatening aspect. 

The proportions of the runaway dirigible 
were looming up in all their hugeness ; but a 
few minutes more, at the present rate of speed, 
and the “ Ogden II ” would be shooting past. 

The brief interval of time passed, the roar 
of the engine lessened, and the biplane drew 
abreast of its monster rival. 

The boys were too eager, now, to pay any 
further attention to the feathered form flying 
below. Strange thrills coursed through them, 
as they looked at the air-ship and its occu- 
pants scarcely a hundred feet away. Willie 
Sloan was waving his hands vigorously. 

The coverings of the car had been rolled up 
in places, exposing to view a part of the in- 
terior. A network of wire ropes and steel 
tubing glimmered dully, while the planes 
fore and aft and the great rudder at the rear 
showed ghostly white. 

Bob Somers steered the “ Ogden II ” still 
closer to the runaway, shutting off as much 


2 39 


Aeroplane 

power as he dared. Strong cross-currents of 
wind began to make themselves felt, bluster- 
ing between the planes, sometimes tipping 
them slightly, or causing peculiar, ominous 
vibrations to send chills down their backs. 

“ Hello the ‘ Ogden II M ” came a hail, which 
the boys were scarcely able to hear above the 
roar of the engine. 

Major Warfield Carroll was calling through 
a megaphone. 

“ Hello, hello ! ” yelled the boys, in unison. 

“ Our engine can't be made to work. Many 
thanks for your kindness and bravery, boys ; 
but I insist upon your making a landing at 
once.” 

His words were barely distinguishable. 

Bob shook his head. 

“ But I insist again that you do nothing of 
the sort ! ” shouted the Major, with all his 
force. “ We'll be able to rise high enough to 
clear the mountains, and are in no danger. 
Don't you know that in a short time you will 
find yourselves in the midst of most dangerous 
air currents ? ” 

“ Couldn’t think of giving up the chase ! ” 
cried Cranny. 


240 


The Rambler Club’s 


The “ Ogden II ” was beginning to glide 
downward. The engine, put under additional 
power, drowned the next words which Major 
Carroll flung toward them. But there was a 
strange tone to his voice which made the boys 
look at each other in surprise. 

The explanation came an instant later. 

The eagle, momentarily forgotten, shot into 
view so close beneath that its glittering eyes 
and cruel-looking beak could be clearly seen. 
Its magnificent, spreading wings were flap- 
ping furiously. 

Almost breathless, the two watched the bird 
soaring still nearer. At intervals, it emitted 
a scream that sounded above the incessant 
din of the engine. 

“ Great Scott ! ” Bob gave a long breath ; 
his nerves tingled with excitement. “ It 
looks as though we're in for a scrap." 


CHAPTER XX 


OVER THE MOUNTAINS 

With this new and startling situation con- 
fronting them, the boys’ attention was di- 
verted from the “ Border City,” now falling 
rapidly behind. 

Many minutes passed — tense, anxious min- 
utes. The eagle flew still closer ; its menac- 
ing attitude increased. Cranny Beaumont 
drew his revolver from its holster ; he was 
ready for instant action ; but neither he nor 
Bob Somers had any desire to end the life of 
the magnificent bird unless its own misguided 
actions should render such a course absolutely 
necessary. 

Momentarily expecting an attack, the boys 
could do nothing but patiently await the next 
move of their feathered foe. As the minutes 
passed without any change in the situation, 
Cranny twisted his head around, to see, over 
his shoulder, the “ Border City.” 

The air-ship was drifting high above them ; 

241 


242 


The Rambler Club’s 


and he noted that bags of sand were still being 
emptied one after another over its side. 

“ I’d give something to know what’s going 
to happen in the next half hour,” he mur- 
mured, grimly. 

A magnificent panorama of mountains lay 
straight before them — a succession of forest- 
crowned slopes, of great precipices and gloomy- 
looking gorges. 

Bob Somers turned toward his passenger ; 
his interrogating look was immediately un- 
derstood. 

Cranny Beaumont nodded emphatically. 
His lips framed the words : 

“ Let her rip, Bob ; go as high as you 
like.” 

The big plane instantly began to rise, 
while its unrelenting pursuer, as if accepting 
this as an evidence of fear, uttered a wild 
screech. The startled lads had a quick view 
of a dusky form shooting ahead and above 
them. They involuntarily shrank back in 
their seats, as it circled around and swooped 
fiercely to the attack. 

Bob Somers knew, and so did Cranny 
Beaumont, that a false movement of the 


243 


Aeroplane 

controlling levers might place them in the 
greatest peril. The latter was prepared ; he 
braced himself hard against the supports. 

In another instant, the bird swept violently 
against the upper plane only a few feet from 
him, while beak, wings and powerful talons 
seemed to resolve themselves into a confused 
mass of pecking, beating and striking objects. 

Crack, crack ! 

Two sharp reports came so close together as 
to be almost blended into one. A thin wisp 
of pungent smoke rolled backward. But 
Cranny Beaumont, even in those moments of 
danger, admired the great eagle too much to 
sacrifice its life. The bullets sped harmlessly 
into space. 

His firing, however, produced exactly the 
effect for which the lad had hoped. The 
cracking of the revolver and flashes of flame 
proved too much for the courage and fighting 
spirit of the bird. With a cry of alarm, it 
turned and flapped away. Then the boys, to 
their great relief, saw it begin a wild swoop 
downward. 

They watched the eagle as it shot off into 
space, one moment silhouetted against the 


244 


The Rambler Club’s 


green pine forests, and the next passing across 
rocky crags, until, finally, the heavy atmos- 
phere blotted it from view. 

“ A mighty lucky escape for us both, old 
king of the air,” breathed Bob Somers, with a 
great sigh of relief. 

He steadied the rocking biplane, and glanced 
behind at the “ Border City.” The balloon, 
considerably to the rear, had now risen to a 
very high altitude. 

“ I’ll have to make a turn and come 
about,” mused the aviator. “ We’re leaving 
them too far behind. Here’s a chance to test 
my skill.” 

Bob Somers’ forehead became knotted again. 
In the stiff breeze, with the currents of air no 
longer steady, he was facing a difficult task. 
All his senses were on the alert to detect the 
slightest indication of danger. Cautiously, he 
operated the levers. 

The flying machine, obeying these move- 
ments, gradually changed its course, swing- 
ing further and further around. The planes 
began to tip, and, as the wind struck hard 
against them, the boys passed through several 
anxious moments. 


Aeroplane 245 

Cranny, compelled to sit idle and trust his 
safety entirely to the skill of another, managed 
with difficulty to repress various shivery sen- 
sations that would persist in running through 
him. 

The “ Ogden II,” tipping at a thrilling 
angle, soared around, soon righting itself 
under the skilful guidance of the aviator. 
In a few minutes they were flying off in the 
opposite direction against a wind which blus- 
tered and sang, or chanted musically, as it 
raced past the planes. The two, at times, 
were forced to bow their heads to the gusts. 

The “ Border City ” seemed to be still as- 
cending. 

“ I believe they’re high enough now to 
cross the mountains in safety.” Bob Somers 
spoke his thoughts aloud. 

Within a few minutes the biplane had left the 
dirigible far astern. The aviator then worked 
the pedals controlling the rudder and tail, send- 
ing the machine around in a graceful curve. 

Another series of thrills, as the planes 
tipped ; another breath-taking glide, and the 
“ Ogden II ” was once more soaring in hot 
pursuit of the air-ship. Cranny gave a whistle 


246 The Rambler Club’s 

of astonishment ; the biplane had climbed high 
above the mountain summits, and was still as- 
cending. A haze seemed to be coming between 
them and the earth. 

When the lad raised his eyes, he saw peak 
after peak looming up, while shining against 
a waste of flying clouds towered the snow- 
capped peak — a pinnacle of forbidding aspect. 
Almost beneath them great walls of rock rose 
precipitously, cleft by deep gorges, or crowned 
with verdure-covered slopes. Every minute a 
new surprise seemed to loom up in that wild 
and enchanting scene. 

And then it was that the reason for Major 
Carroll’s course dawned upon Cranny’s mind. 
Beyond the furthermost crags, a broad gray 
expanse of plain, looking like the sea, stretched 
off, to finally merge imperceptibly into the 
gloomy sky. 

“ Ah ha ; that’s it ! ” muttered Cranny. 
“Foxy chap, that; won’t give up — expects to 
get his engine going. Knows he’ll clear the 
mountains, and be able to descend on the 
other side.” 

He looked toward the “ Border City,” now 
sweeping majestically above the first summit. 


2 47 


Aeroplane 

Bob Somers shut off as much power as he 
dared. Already the biplane had begun to 
rock, tremble, or wobble in the grip of deflected 
currents of wind. Bob felt that it would be 
foolhardy in the extreme to risk another 
turn ; from now on their only safety lay in 
keeping to a straight course. 

For some time the aviator had had an 
ominous fact strongly impressed upon his 
mind — the wind was veering. 

“ Yes, there’s not the least doubt about it,” 
breathed Bob. “ And exactly in the wrong 
way, too. The ‘ Border City ’ is surely head- 
ing more and more in the direction of that 
snow-capped peak.” 

He managed to convey his thoughts to 
Cranny Beaumont. 

The big lad nodded vigorously ; his face 
clouded over with the gravest apprehension. 
It was certain that the balloon could not clear 
such a towering summit. 

It was hard for the lads to feel that, al- 
though so near to their companions of the air, 
they were absolutely helpless to render them 
the slightest assistance. Their gaze was fixed 
on the great yellowish hull drifting some dis- 


248 The Rambler Club’s 

tance below them, a plaything of the capri- 
cious wind which urged it every moment 
toward the great white barrier. 

The biplane was shooting past again, rocking 
in the gusts of wind, or shaken by convulsive 
tremors. The aviator and his passenger could 
see, gathered at the foremost end of the diri- 
gible’s car, not two figures, but three. 

The passage of the “ Ogden II ” so close 
above, however, seemed to pass unnoticed, as 
though the three could think of nothing but 
the great danger which confronted them. 

“ There’s still time, if the wind would only 
change ! ” cried Bob. 

Consideration for their own safety denied 
them a chance to look again. The cross- 
currents tore and whirled against the planes ; 
it was a time when navigation of the air 
required a cool head and steady hand. 

Bob Somers’ face wore a look of resolute 
courage. He had confidence in his ability to 
weather the elements and pilot the craft over 
the mountains to the plains beyond. But 
what would be the fate of the “ Border City ” ? 
The wind showed no signs of veering back to 
its original quarter. 


Aeroplane 249 

A prey to doubts and fears, he held the 
biplane on a steady course, watching the 
incline of the mountain, as it seemingly 
slipped up toward them, and the frowning, 
snow-clad crags, close by, which they were 
about to pass. It was an awe-inspiring picture 
of the wilderness, solemn and grim, with its 
darkened atmosphere and canopy of somber 
clouds. 


CHAPTER XXI 


ADRIFT 

Every one well acquainted with Major 
Warfield Carroll recognized in him a man of 
rather eccentric ways and ideas — one of those 
who is apt to take likes and dislikes without 
apparent cause. And yet his friends generally 
found in the end that the stubborn, combat- 
ive, even hot-headed Major, in nearly all 
cases, had very good reasons for his actions. 
He possessed an intuitive knowledge of 
human nature, and, as a matter of course, was 
an excellent judge of character. Those fortu- 
nate enough to gain his favor found in him a 
real friend, one who, so long as they proved 
themselves worthy, was glad to advance their 
interests. 

Early one evening, while he and the three 
Ogdens were studying over some blue-prints 
in a little office at one corner of the hangar, a 
small lad, hot, dusty and tired, walked boldly 
250 


Aeroplane 251 

in, despite the commands of Walters to “make 
himself scarce.” 

“ Oh, goodness, Mr. Ogden,” he said, wearily, 
“ but maybe I’m not tired.” 

“ Willie Sloan ! ” cried the inventor, in 
great surprise, while his sons looked at the 
boy as if not quite sure that they saw aright. 

“ Yes ; it’s William Brinton Sloan, P. G. S.,” 
said Willie, with a faint grin. 

“ What in the world are you doing here? 
Where are the others? Major Carroll, this is 
one of the lads I spoke about.” 

The financier’s sharp eyes were fixed full 
upon him. Willie stared earnestly back. 
His half-shy and half-impudent manner, some- 
how, seemed to catch the Major’s fancy ; but 
the latter’s tone was stern, as he said : 

“ What have you to say, in answer to Mr. 
Ogden’s question?” 

“ A whole lot — near enough to fill a book,” 
gulped Willie. “ I couldn’t stand that old 
farmhouse any longer, so I — I — just lit out, 
and ” 

“ Do you mean to say that you actually 
walked here ? ” demanded Rob Ogden. 

“ Yes ; and it was something awful. I never 


2J2 


The Rambler Club’s 


knew there were so many cows in the world. 
And say, it was hot enough out there to bake 
a pie.” 

A twinkle of amusement shone in the eyes 
of several. 

“ How did you find your wa} 7 ?” asked Major 
Carroll. 

“I struck out on a bee-line for the railroad, 
and followed the tracks right into town.” 

“ But you might soon have become used to 
Lone Pine, and enjoyed the experience.” 

“ Not in a thousand years,” protested Willie, 
earnestly. “ I don’t want to ride a broncho ; 
I don’t want to go up in that air-skimmer. 
When the machine shop was closed, that set- 
tled it.” 

“ Otherwise, I fear, the machine shop would 
have been settled,” laughed Rob. 

“ Are you, then, interested in tools and 
machinery, my lad?” asked the Major. 

“Am I — am I! — Well, you just bet I 
am ! ” exclaimed Willie, sinking down on a 
stool. “ I could live all my life in a work- 
shop.” 

The financier became interested. 

“ Tell me something about yourself,” he 


253 


Aeroplane 

said. His usually brusque manner softened. 
“ No — on reflection, I think we had better 
postpone that for a while. Ferd, if you are 
going over to the Carroll, take him along. 
Let him have everything he wants.” He 
turned away. “ Now, Ogden, as I was saying, 
the idiot who drew this plan ought to be 
drummed out of town ; he ” 

Willie, quite startled by the sudden change 
in the Major’s voice, was glad to follow Ferd 
outside. 

At the Carroll Inn, he was assigned to a 
pleasant room. After a good wash and a 
bountiful, meal he felt decidedly unlike the 
lad who had walked across the prairie. 

A little later on, Major Carroll listened to 
Willie Sloan’s history of his life from the time 
he was five years old up to the present. He 
also learned that, above all things, Mr. Beau- 
mont’s ward disliked typewriting and office 
work. 

At intervals the financier smiled and nod- 
ded. 

Then Willie, encouraged by his manner, 
spoke earnestly about Cranny’s mission to 
Border City ; he said it would be a most 


254 


The Rambler Club’s 


dreadful shame if Mr. Beaumont wasn’t sup- 
plied with all possible information. He also 
said several things which would have made 
Cranny highly indignant had he heard them. 

Major Carroll toyed with his watch fob, 
smiled, and reflected. Being at the very head of 
the progressive movement, he was, naturally, 
inclined to offer Mr. Beaumont every encour- 
agement. 

“ I’ll see that you get all the particulars,” 
he remarked, briskly. “ We are going to 
have a great town here in a few years. There 
are splendid opportunities for safe invest- 
ment. To-morrow, I shall find time to put 
you on the right track.” 

The Major, in his enthusiasm, seemed to 
disregard the fact that his hearer was merely 
a boy. 

A strange expression began to creep over 
Willie Sloan’s face. He had generally found 
himself treated as a person of small impor- 
tance, and the Major’s tone and manner touched 
a chord in his nature which had seldom, if 
ever, been played upon. He brightened up 
perceptibly. 

“ And I’ll write to my guardian,” he de- 


Aeroplane 255 

dared energetically. “ Til make Cran and 
old Doctor Clifton sit up and take notice.” 

“ Doctor Clifton ? ” queried Major Carroll. 

“ He’s a huge six-footer,” said Willie. 

“ Keeping a friendly eye on you youngsters, 
I suppose? ” 

“ Perhaps he thinks he is,” chuckled the 
boy. 

“ Won’t he object to vour staying at Border 
City?” 

“ No indeed I ” answered Mr. Beaumont’s 
ward, ending his words with a peculiar little 
gasp. 

If some of Major Carroll’s intimate friends 
had been at Border City for the next few days 
they might have noted another evidence of 
his eccentricity — he allowed Willie to amuse 
himself as much as he pleased in the hangar. 

“ Any lad who takes so great an interest in 
mechanics as he does should be encouraged,” 
he declared to Mr. Ogden, Senior. 

Willie began to lose his habitual air of dis- 
content; he became active, going errands for 
the Major with eagerness and a desire to please 
which would have made Mr. Beaumont open 
his eyes with astonishment. 


The Rambler Club’s 


256 

The days which followed were pleasant ones 
to the lad. Even Kindale admitted that he 
had a decided aptitude for machinery. The 
Ogdens, however, believing that it was only a 
passing fancy, smiled indulgently. 

One afternoon the mechanics, and several 
assistants requisitioned from a crowd which 
usually lounged about the hangar, began to 
haul forth the great balloon. 

A cheer came from the crowd when the 
cigar-shaped air-ship, weighted with bags of 
sand, and held captive by means of ropes, 
rested outside the building. 

Willie pleaded earnestly to be allowed to 
ascend. 

“ But won’t you be afraid ? ” asked the Ma- 
jor. 

“ No indeed ! It isn’t like an air-skimmer ; 
there’s a solid floor to stand on.” 

“ There is only a moderate breeze blowing,” 
explained the Major. “ I have been waiting 
for just such a day as this — neither absolutely 
calm nor too windy ; and, incidentally, I wish 
to experiment with a new steering gear. I 
suppose there is no harm in your going. Come 
along.” 


2 57 


Aeroplane 

He stepped quickly up the gangplank, 
with Willie at his heels. Kindale had already 
taken a stand by the engine. 

“ We won’t be long, Ogden ! ” called the 
Major, presently. “ Let go, men ! ” 

Slowly and majestically the “ Border City ” 
began to rise. 

This time Willie experienced no feeling of 
nervousness or fear as he saw the ground be- 
ing rapidly left behind. Viewed from the 
cozy interior of the car, it seemed to be a per- 
fectly safe proceeding, although, at first, the 
decided tilt of the balloon made his footing 
rather insecure. 

When the “ Border City ” came to an even 
keel again the hangar was far below. 

“ We have reached an altitude of about a 
thousand feet,” explained Major Carroll, who 
was at the wheel. 

“ If the balloon goes much higher it’ll be 
cloud-scrapin’,” murmured Willie. Then he 
added, to himself : “ After this, those dubs at 
Lone Pine won’t think I’m afraid of every- 
thing.” 

Entranced by the view, he gazed earnestly 
out of the mica-covered window. The town 


258 The Rambler Club’s 

lay off to one side, a scattered group of houses 
on the dark, loam-covered prairie. 

The balloon answered to the slightest move- 
ment of the helm, forcing its way against the 
wind, or rising and descending when the lev- 
ers which controlled the balancing device 
were operated. 

“ It’s simply stunning ! ” cried Willie. 
“ Please don’t sail back just yet, Major Car- 
roll.” 

“ We’ll take a short trip across the prairie,” 
replied the aeronaut, with a smile. 

As they rose still higher a stronger current 
of air was encountered. The engine pound- 
ing away at full speed, and the steady wind, 
now at its back, sent the “ Border City ” 
through the air with a rapid but easy gliding 
motion. 

Before the hills which cut across the prairie 
were reached Major Carroll sought a lower 
level, piloted his air-ship about, and she was 
presently beating a passage slowly back to 
Border City. 

He hovered over the town long enough to 
perform several evolutions which highly 
amazed the entire population. 


Aeroplane 259 

Suddenly the throbbing of the engine 
ceased. 

Major Carroll turned and gazed sharply 
along the length of the car; then, as the 
sound did not begin anew, he roared : 

“ What's the matter, Kindale ? ” 

“ I'm trying to find out, sir ! " 

With an exclamation of impatience, Major 
Carroll immediately began to lash the wheel 
fast. 

“ Hang the thing ! " exclaimed the en- 
gineer, as he walked up. “ This is certainly 
exasperating, eh, Major?" 

“ You ought to have the engine working in 
a few minutes, Kindale." 

“ I hope so, sir." 

Together, they proceeded to examine the en- 
gine, battery and wires, while Willie, deeply 
interested, looked on. It soon became appar- 
ent that the trouble lay with the electrical 
apparatus, which failed to ignite the explosive 
mixture within the cylinders of the motor. 
Occasionally the spark gave an encouraging 
indication of resuming work ; but that was all. 

Half an hour passed. Border City, left 
further and further behind, became a curious- 


260 The Rambler Club’s 


shaped mass of grayish white against the 
gloomy waste of plain. 

The engineer tinkered ; the Major tinkered ; 
and, doubtless, Willie would have tinkered 
had there been a chance. But their efforts 
continued to be unavailing. 

“ Oh, goodness ! Is there any danger of us 
staying up here forever ? ” piped Willie. 

“ Depends upon three things, son — the en- 
gine, the wind, and Major Carroll,” answered 
Kindale, gruffly. 

The financier squared his jaw. 

“ I don’t want to lose any of the gas, except 
as a last resort, Kindale,” he said, emphatically. 
“ We had trouble enough getting the bag in 
its present fine condition.” 

“ The wind ain’t goin’ down none, sir.” 

“ All the more reason for making every ef- 
fort to avoid descending. A landing would 
be difficult, and might have disastrous conse- 
quences to the balloon.” 

“ You’re right, sir.” 

“ And even at the worst we can float in 
safety until the wind simmers down.” 

“ How about the mountains ? ” 

“ We can easily rise high enough to cross 


Aeroplane 261 

them. Beyond, according to my maps, is a 
great stretch of plain. By George, it will be 
time enough to crawl when we reach it.” 

“ It’s certain there ain't no danger, 
Major,” said Kindale. Then, as the finan- 
cier walked impatiently away, he added, in 
an aside to Willie : “ That's him — don’t 

never know when he's beat, an' never 
will. Likely as not we’ll sail around the 
whole earth.” 

Although the aeronauts continued to make 
every effort to get the “ Border City ” under 
control, it drifted on and on, while the wind 
gradually increased in force. 

The pursuit of the biplane highly exasper- 
ated the financier. 

“ I admire the courage of those lads,” he 
stormed, “ but it’s absolutely foolhardy, as 
well as useless. But for the rugged foot-hills 
below us, I'd descend right now, rather than 
have them run any further risks.” 

“ It's the plains, or nothing, now, for the 
‘ Border City,' ” said Kindale, dryly. 

Occasionally Willie lent his small stock of 
strength in aiding the men to empty heavy 
bags of sand. As they rose higher, the im- 


262 


The Rambler Club’s 


mense panorama outstretched before his eyes 
gave him a peculiar feeling of awe. 

The biplane finally approached, but Kin- 
dale, still struggling hard with the refractory 
batteries, made no effort to see it. 

Major Carroll’s hailing of Bob Somers and 
the sight of the “ Ogden II,” flying like an enor- 
mous bird so close at hand, seemed more like 
a strange dream than reality to Willie Sloan. 
So did the remarkable actions of the eagle. 

The change in the wind upset all of the 
Major’s calculations. The two men talked to- 
gether in low tones, for neither wished to 
alarm the lad ; but each realized that unless 
it veered back to its original direction, they 
might find themselves, before very long, 
placed in a position of great danger. 

“ Those daring youngsters on the aeroplane 
worry me, too,” confessed the Major. 

“ I wouldn’t bother about ’em,” advised 
Kindale. “ They’ve got nerve enough to get 
the best o’ a hurricane o’ flyin’ cats. What I 
don’t like is that white-bearded peak which 
seems to be stickin’ up there jist a-purpose to 
git us. Never could see no good in moun- 
tains, anyhow.” 


Aeroplane 263 

Willie Sloan began to feel badly frightened. 
The stormy waste of clouds seemed to be close 
overhead. He watched them flying along, 
expecting every minute to see their ragged 
edges flung off into pelting drops of rain — the 
prelude to a steady downpour. 

“ My, those mountains look simply terrible,” 
he muttered. “ And whew, but it’s awful 
cold.” 

He pulled his coat collar closely about his 
neck, and, shivering with the chill air and 
anxiety, walked toward the engine. 

“ I don’t know what’s to be done, Major,” 
he heard the engineer confess. 

“ Then we’re bound to cut off the top o’ 
that mountain, eh, mister ? ” piped Willie, 
still more excited and alarmed. 

Without waiting for a reply, the lad walked 
quickly to the forward end of the car. He 
was only dimly conscious of the fact that the 
“ Ogden II ” continued to stand by them. 

The “ Border City,” at a high altitude, was 
now over the mountain crests and approach- 
ing the grim-looking peak which dominated 
them all. Its summit pierced the lowest strata 
of clouds and disappeared from view. 


The Rambler Club’s 


264 

The dark, ominous aspect of nature in- 
creased ; the forests and crags were almost 
swallowed up in the dense, gloomy atmos- 
phere. 

He hurried back, and found Major Carroll 
and his engineer paying out a rope through 
an opening in the bottom of the car. 

“ It’s the anchor,” explained the Major. 
“ Don’t be alarmed, my boy ; it ought to stop 
us.” 

Willie Sloan walked to the rail and delib- 
erately looked downward. At any other time, 
he might not have been able to view the im- 
mense void beneath without being overpowered 
by a feeling of dizziness, but now his gaze was 
almost steady. It rested upon the anchor 
dangling nearer and nearer the earth. The 
iron seemed almost touching, yet it was still 
being lowered. 

“ Goodness ! If it only catches in some- 
thing and holds, won’t I be glad?” murmured 
Willie. 

He suddenly became aware of a damp, 
sticky feeling sweeping across his face. He 
lifted his eyes, with a start of surprise, to see 
masses of vapor swirling through the car. 


Aeroplane 265 

“ The clouds ! ” he cried, in an awe-struck 
voice. 

The “ Border City ” was speedily enveloped 
from stem to stern ; and the mist rolled thicker 
and thicker, until everything beyond a few 
yards became blotted out. The men, still en- 
gaged in lowering the anchor, appeared as 
shadowy, gigantic figures. 

“ My ; this is the worst yet ! ” Willie 
groaned. 

He vainly tried to make out their posi- 
tion ; but the veil seemed to have become even 
more dense and impenetrable. 

In another moment, he was almost jerked 
off his feet by the sudden slowing up of the 
car. 

“ The anchor’s caught ; eh, Major Carroll ? ” 
he cried, joyfully. 

“ So it would appear, son,” came a voice 
through the fog. 

The “ Border City,” swinging and wob- 
bling, tugged hard on the cable. Willie 
groped his way along, occasionally glancing 
over the rail, without seeing anything, how- 
ever, but the blanket of rolling mist. Every- 
thing was enveloped in its chill and sticky 


266 


The Rambler Club’s 


grip ; the ropes and tubes dripped with mois- 
ture ; it crept around his neck, and whirled 
against his eyes and ears. The big hull as- 
sumed a spectral look, and the gloom was like 
that of approaching night. 

The shadowy figures were presently stand- 
ing by his side, peering over the rail. 

“ It’s gettin’ thicker, Major,” said Kindale. 

“ I think this cloud will soon pass by.” 
Major Carroll laid his hand upon Willie’s 
shoulder. “ Don’t be frightened, my lad,” he 
said. 

“ I am, though. Are we going to stay up 
here all day ? ” 

“ I hope not. Let’s get busy, Kindale.” 

The men walked to the windlass around 
which the cable was wound. 

Willie watched them, as they turned it 
slowly and laboriously. The captive balloon 
strained hard on the rope, while the cold wind 
moaned and whistled monotonously past. 

“I see a hole in the clouds, sir!” yelled 
Willie, at length. 

“ Good ! ” grunted Kindale. 

“How far down are you going?” asked 
Willie, anxiously. 


Aeroplane 267 

“ To within a short distance of the ground,” 
explained Major Carroll. “ The rest of the 
way we shall have to descend by means of a 
rope ladder.” 

“ And what then ? ” 

“ We must get word to Border City. Per- 
haps, after all, our young friends in the 
aeroplane may be able to render us a serv- 
ice.” 

“ The Ogdens will have to see that we get 
some batteries in the biggest kind of a hurry,” 
supplemented Kindale. 

“ Sounds might} 7 easy,” muttered Willie, 
“ but we may have the dickens of a time 
climbing down the mountain. Besides, it’s 
an awful way back to the prairie.” 

The mist was beginning to open out. 
Willie’s eyes eagerly followed the line of 
the cable through a rugged rift, to see it 
disappear in the midst of a thick clump of 
trees. The openings became more numerous, 
until, at last, the moisture-laden and drip- 
ping “ Border City ” was no longer immersed 
in its vapor bath. 

As Willie Sloan, much relieved, began 
walking toward the forward end, a sudden 


268 The Rambler Club’s 

jolt swung him against the rail. He uttered 
a startled exclamation, and looked below. 

“ Oh, goodness — goodness ! ” he wailed, 
thoroughly alarmed. “ The anchor has torn 
loose.’’ 

The balloon had, indeed, resumed its drift 
toward the mountain. 

“ It’s ketched onct ; it’s likely to ketch 
ag’in,” cried Kindale, encouragingly. 

Willie breathlessly watched the anchor, 
seemingly but a tiny speck, slipping and 
sliding over a bald ridge of rock. He braced 
himself and held tight to the slanting rail. 
The feelings of a shipwrecked mariner, who 
sees his vessel being borne through the surg- 
ing waves toward a line of foam-crested 
breakers, and destined to be pounded to 
pieces on a rocky shore, took possession of 
him. His eyes were fixed, by turns, upon a 
broad white surface towering high above 
them. At about their own level, he saw 
bold reddish crags and steep slopes partly 
covered with fir and pine. 

“ Can’t anything be done, Major Carroll ? ” 
he asked, despairingly. 

“ The anchor is our sole dependence,” an- 


Aeroplane 269 

swered the millionaire. Then, as he noted 
the blank look which came over the boy’s 
face, he hastened to add : “ We are not in 
any danger. Keep cool, and trust to us.” 

Several times the trailing anchor seemed 
on the point of arresting their progress 
again ; but just as Willie began to feel his 
hopes revive, the tremendous strain on the 
cable tore it free, and each minute the 
“ Border City ” was drifting nearer and 
nearer to the barrier. The men stood by 
the lad, awaiting developments in silence. 

“ It’ll strike head-on, sir,” said Kindale, 
in a voice which reached only the Major’s 
ears. 

The rocks and trees stood out dark and 
grim amidst the somber, sullen-looking land- 
scape, but with a clearness which showed 
how near they were. Willie watched in 
breathless suspense, while the air-ship slowly 
swung about in the cross-currents of wind. 

The expected moment soon arrived. He 
felt the car shiver and jar — the “ Border 
City ” had struck. 


CHAPTER XXII 


PRISONERS 

The great hull collided head-on, as Kin- 
dale had predicted ; then, swinging sideways, 
scraped and bumped along the rough, scarred 
side of the mountain, which sloped precipi- 
tously downward. 

Willie Sloan, pale and trembling, sought 
courage from the men at his side. A look in 
Major CarrolTs eyes reassured him. 

“ We’re all right, my lad,” exclaimed the 
aeronaut, almost forgetting, in his solicitude 
for the lad, his own misgivings. 

The car still swayed violently. At inter- 
vals, as the guide rope drew taut, there 
came an alarming lurch, which was imme- 
diately followed by another sweep forward. 
Then the huge, unwieldy hull was borne 
against an almost perpendicular wall of rock 
with such force that it seemed almost on the 
point of bursting. 

As the air-ship, caught in a vortex of con- 
270 


2 7 1 


Aeroplane 

flicting currents, rebounded, it turned side- 
ways, and presently drifted clear, the guide 
rope hanging in front of a high precipice. 
Some distance ahead a pine-covered spur ex- 
tended out from the mountain. 

The eyes and thoughts of all three were cen- 
tered upon it. The “ Border City ” was again 
floating above the rocks. To Willie Sloan, the 
minutes seemed to drag with intolerable slow- 
ness. His heart was beating fast. 

“ Don’t be afraid, my lad,” again admon- 
ished the Major. A grim look settled about 
the corners of his mouth. “ If necessary we 
can abandon the air-ship as soon as it reaches 
the spur.” 

The “ Border City ” slowly approached the 
crags. The tops of the pines, through which 
the wind soughed with a musical murmur, 
seemed to bristle upward, as though angry 
at the intrusion of the monster and bent upon 
its destruction. 

Presently the anxious passengers heard the 
branches of the taller trees beginning to strike 
and grind against the bottom and sides of the 
car. Not a word was spoken as they stood 
by supporting themselves by the rail, while 


272 The Rambler Club’s 

shock after shock jarred the car from stem to 
stern. 

“ Yards of money gone for the sake of a 
few feet of gas and a little trouble, Kindale,” 
murmured Major Carroll, regretfully. 

“ The anchor has ketched in something, 
sir.” 

The financier instantly realized that Kin- 
dale’s observation was true. The tightening 
rope had gradually stopped the air-ship, which 
was now tipping more and more downward. 

At last, beaten down by the force of the 
wind, and struggling hard to break away, it 
brought up against a tree top. A rending and 
crashing of branches followed the impact of 
the car. 

Next instant, as if giving up the struggle, 
the “ Border City ” began to settle on its side 
amid the trees. The car, held by the solid 
pine branches, tilted at a dangerous angle. 

“ Oh — oh ! — we’re going to be spilled out ! ” 
gasped Willie Sloan, with a thrill of terror. 

“ No — keep cool ! ” called out Major Car- 
roll, in a reassuring voice. “ This is the end 
of our trip : we shall easily be able to reach 
the ground in safety.” 


Aeroplane 273 

“ We’re sure stuck tight enough this time, 
sir,” said the engineer. 

Again Kindale’s observation proved to be 
correct. The air-ship was firmly held by the 
drag rope. Its great hull, straining and tug- 
ging, was as far in advance of the car as the 
connecting framework would permit. With 
every heavy gust of wind it dipped downward 
at a sharper angle ; then rose again. 

The car had come to rest upon a bed of 
waving pine boughs, while numerous branches 
rested caressingly over its rail. The floor, 
showered with needles, in places resembled a 
carpet of green. 

“ A slight lad like you should have no dif- 
ficulty in reaching the ground.” The Major’s 
cool, collected voice broke the spell of fright 
which had held Willie Sloan in its grip. 

“ I think I can manage it, sir,” he said, in 
a low tone, as he kept himself in an upright 
position by holding on to the steel tubing. 

“ Of course you can.” 

“ I should call this one o’ the awkwardest 
positions a man were ever placed in,” grunted 
the engineer. “ But still it could be a dozen 
times worse. The propellers ain’t even broke, 


274 


The Rambler Club’s 


Major, though they’re certainly caught tight 
enough in those branches.” 

Immediately following this remark, Kin- 
dale proceeded to attach a heavy sand-bag to 
a rope ladder, and, with Major Carroll’s as- 
sistance, it was thrown over the side. Shift- 
ing it about, in order to find favorable open- 
ings, the men lowered away. 

Boughs and masses of foliage were pushed 
aside by the weight of the sand-bag ; twigs or 
small branches occasionally snapped. At 
length some obstruction caught the bag and 
held it fast. 

“ Can’t move it either up or down,” re- 
marked Kindale, after several long and vigor- 
ous efforts. “ Anyway, we’ll be able to climb 
a few yards nearer the earth. I’ll go first, 
Major.” 

The engineer assured himself that the lad- 
der was secure, then clambered over the side 
of the car. 

It was an anxious moment to Willie Sloan. 
He watched Kindale swaying back and forth 
on his apparently frail support and descend- 
ing cautiously toward the denser foliage below. 
Almost immediately his form was hidden, and 


Aeroplane 275 

only the sound of rustling leaves told of his 
steady progress toward the ground. 

“ Kindale is surely not finding it a difficult 
undertaking/’ said the Major. “ Your turn 
next, lad.” 

“ Yes, sir ; I’m ready,” answered Willie, 
with a little gulp. 

A stentorian hail from the engineer reached 
his ears : 

“ It’s all right, Major. I’m not all the way 
down, but I’ll wait here for the boy.” 

Major Carroll assisted Willie over the side, 
and kept a firm grip on him until he had 
secured a footing on the ladder. 

Away from the solid support of the car, 
and for the first time entirely dependent upon 
his own efforts, Mr. Beaumont’s ward found 
that the surroundings had assumed an even 
more wild and forbidding aspect. One glance 
at the snow-covered heights above, and 
another through an opening in the trees, 
which showed a hazy patch far below, made 
his knees almost tremble. Had he suddenly 
found himself on the weather-vane of a 
cathederal spire his sensations might have 
been much the same as he experienced now. 


276 The Rambler Club’s 


Then thoughts of Tom Clifton, and what 
Tom Clifton might say, if he could see him 
perched so ridiculously high in the air, flashed 
into his mind. They did him more good 
than almost anything else could have done. 

“ I’ll just make old Dr. Thomas Cliffy 
open his eyes,” he decided. “ He’ll think I’m 
a bird, all right. I’d like to be a bird for 
about five minutes.” 

As he started to lower himself from rung to 
rung, the ladder began to sway, while gusts 
of wind blew against him with a force that 
made his heart flutter. 

Down — down he went, pushing obstructing 
branches out of his way. They became thicker 
and thicker, forming an arching screen over- 
head through which the big gas bag appeared 
as a mere, formless patch of dark. 

The lad gave a violent start when a bird 
unexpectedly darted out from amidst the 
shadowed depths of the fragrant pines, and, 
with a shrill cry, flew swiftly past. 

“ Take it easy, lad,” cautioned Kindale, 
from below. “ ’Tain’t very far to the ground.” 

Pine-needles were sweeping against Willie 
at every step, scratching his hands and face ; 


Aeroplane 277 

but he struggled on, even smiling grimly as 
he discovered the engineer sitting astride a 
limb just below. 

“ The sand-bag stuck right here,” explained 
Kindale, “ but there's plenty o' stout branches 
— nothing to be skeered at, lad.” 

“ Who's skeered? ” grunted Willie. 

“ Not you, that's sure,” laughed the other. 
“ You're a brick. Easy, now ! I’ll give you 
a hand.” 

With the assistance of the engineer, Willie 
managed to climb upon a sturdy limb, utter- 
ing a sigh of satisfaction as he eased himself 
into a safe position. 

“ Take a rest, now, while I keep on,” 
advised Kindale. “ Yes; we're still all right, 
Major ! ” he yelled, in answer to a call which 
came through the trees. “ 'Most down, now.” 

Five minutes later, after struggling from 
branch to branch and crotch to crotch, Willie 
Sloan dropped, safe and sound, to the earth. 

“ Bully for you ! ” cried Kindale. “ You’re 
a dandy ! ” 

Mr. Beaumont's ward grinned cheerfully. 

“ Guess this beats all of old Doc Cliffy's 
adventures pounded into one,” he said. 


The Rambler Club’s 


278 

“ Hello — hello, Major Carroll ; we’re down- 
stairs at last.” 

It didn’t take the slight, active financier 
very long to join them. 

“ We have been most fortunate,” he re- 
marked. His eyes lighted up with satisfac- 
tion, as he glanced from one to the other. A 
vigorous shake sent a shower of pine-needles 
flying from his shoulders. “ But a hard task 
still confronts us. We must ” 

“ Get out of the woods,” chirped Willie, 
whose mind was now relieved from all anx- 
iety. 

“ Quite right,” laughed the Major. “ I sup- 
pose Doctor Clifton may have something to 
say about this. But come on ; we must find 
a way to descend.” 

Feelings somewhat like those of an explorer 
who has landed upon some strange, untrodden 
soil, coursed through Willie Sloan, as they 
made their way around the trees. A delight- 
ful fragrance of the pines filled the air. 

Finally the forest thinned out, and the ex- 
plorers, following the edge of the spur, at 
length emerged upon a stretch of barren rocks. 

“ I wonder where in the world Bob Somers 


Aeroplane 279 

and Cran have gone in that old air-skimmer,” 
remarked Willie, after a long stare in all di- 
rections. 

“ I’d give a lot to know whether the boys 
are safe.” 

A troubled expression came over Major 
Carroll’s face. 

“ Of course they are, sir,” said Kindale, con- 
fidently. “ Thunder ! I do wish we could 
find a way down this slope,” he added. 

An hour’s thorough search convinced the 
party that they were in a decidedly unpleas- 
ant situation. On every side almost vertical 
cliffs made descent impossible, while over- 
hanging crags and slopes too steep to climb 
prevented them from ascending. 

The three finally came to a halt before a 
smooth slab of rock which rose about twenty- 
five feet above their heads. 

“ If we could get over that, Major, there’d 
be a chance,” said Kindale, glancing critically 
at the slope higher up. “ It’s the only prom- 
ising place we’ve seen.” 

“ I don’t think there is any possible way 
for us to manage it,” returned the aero- 
naut. His forehead knitted into a tremen- 


28 o 


The Rambler Club’s 


dous frown. “ There is nothing to catch a 
rope or ladder.” 

“ Then it looks as though we’re up against 
it hard,” murmured the engineer, in a low 
tone. “ Not a bite to eat ; not a drop o’ water 
to drink, an’ not a firearm among the three.” 

“ Prisoners — apparently ! ” said the Major, 
with a gesture of impatience. “ Yes, prison- 
ers ! ” he repeated grimly, casting a glance 
toward Willie, who had wandered off. 


CHAPTER XXIII 


BY MOONLIGHT 

“ Well, Bob Somers, you’re a crackeijack, 
sure enough ! ” Cranny Beaumont uttered 
these words with a heartiness that indicated a 
decided conviction on the subject. 

The “ Ogden II ” had crossed the mountains 
and landed in safety on a gently rising swell 
some distance beyond. 

Cranny slapped the aviator on the shoulder 
with a force corresponding to the enthusiasm 
exhibited by his speech, whereupon Bob 
winced and hastily drew away. 

“ Thanks, Cranny,” he said, “ but I’d un- 
derstand without having the sentiments 
pounded in.” 

“ Bob, I couldn’t help it. The way you 
handled that biplane was simply great. I’d 
call it a corkin’ fine experience but for ” 

The big lad paused, while an anxious ex- 
pression replaced his habitual grin. 

“ I wonder what has happened to them,” 
281 


282 


The Rambler Club’s 


said Bob, musingly. “ The ‘ Border City ’ has 
certainly been blown against the mountain.” 

“ Sure as we’re standin’ here,” agreed 
Cranny. “ By Jupiter, wasn’t it mean luck 
that the wind had to change ? ” 

The two stared about them for a moment 
in silence. Foot-hills and mountains rose at 
their back, while in front a vast expanse of 
prairie stretched off to the limits of view. 
Here and there, masses of mesquite and 
scrubby trees dotted its rolling surface. 

“ What’s to be done, Somers ? ” asked 
Cranny, at length. 

“ Have a bite to eat, and wait for the wind 
to quiet down,” answered Bob, with a glance 
at the sky. 

“ Goin’ up again, eh? ” 

“ If there’s a possible chance. But if you 
don’t want to risk it ” 

“ See here, Bob ” — the lad spoke in a highly 
injured tone — “did you ever know me to 
back out ” 

“ Never did, Cran,” laughed Bob. 

“ And you never will, either. I’ll go where 
anybody else will, and maybe a bit further. 
No Willie Sloan ’bout me, Bob.” 


283 


Aeroplane 

“ Poor little chap,” sighed Bob. 

“ I’m afraid he’s had such a scare that it’ll 
take a year for him to get over it. I’ll be 
mighty glad when to-morrow morning 
comes.” 

“ By that time we ought to know more than 
we do now, Cranny.” 

Bob had taken the precaution to pack in a 
small bag a supply of bacon, crackers and 
cheese, so the two hurried toward a patch of 
timber in search of fuel. 

After fifteen minutes of brisk chopping, 
Bob kindled a fire on the edge of the woods, 
while Cranny filled the coffee-pot from the 
canteens and got the cooking utensils ready. 

The gloom slowly deepened ; mountains 
and plain began to grow dim and mysterious. 
The “ Ogden II,” some distance away, re- 
vealed itself by ghostly patches of grayish 
white and formless shadows ; and, finally, 
night closed around them. 

The two found it difficult to keep their 
restless feelings in check, often pacing to 
and fro, while the flames sent their shadows 
fantastically over the ground. 

Hour after hour dragged out its tedious 


284 The Rambler Club’s 

course ; but, to the joy and relief of both, 
the wind began to lessen and the gaps in the 
clouds to constantly increase in size. Shafts 
of silvery light fell across the plain ; the snow 
on Eagles' Peak shone with a spectral luster, 
while mountain crags and timbered slopes 
appeared in places where before were only 
gloomy masses of dark. 

“ Isn’t this great luck, Cranny ! ” cried Bob. 

“ Corking ! What jolly sport it would be 
but for " 

“ That's so," said Bob. 

Half an hour later, the impatient boys de- 
cided that it was safe to make a start. 

The moon was shining brilliantly as they 
stamped out the fire. Then Bob, followed by 
Cranny, walked briskly toward the “ Ogden 
II." 

The hum of the engine and whirr of the 
propeller blades soon rose on the air. Under 
the skilful guidance of Bob Somers, the 
biplane began to soar toward the silvery- 
edged clouds which still drifted in the gray- 
ish expanse of blue. 

Higher, still higher, with the moon sending 
a faint, queer-shaped shadow over the prairie, 


Aeroplane 285 

rose the “ Ogden II.” A vast, seemingly un- 
real world opened out before them, as they 
swiftly winged their way toward the moun- 
tains. Unheard exclamations of astonishment 
and delight came continually from Cranny’s 
lips. 

Densely wooded foot-hills were soon directly 
beneath them. Now, having risen far above 
the crests of the nearer mountains, they were 
able to look upon a scene of unparalleled 
grandeur. Innumerable crags and peaks, 
enveloped in the soft sheen of the moon, 
stretched far off toward the horizon, glitter- 
ing in light, or steely gray in shadow. 

The boys gazed into the dizzy depths below 
with a feeling of awe. Here, they saw a 
cascade, tumbling from ledge to ledge ; there, 
an inaccessible canyon, through whose gloomy 
depths dashed a foaming torrent. In the mys- 
terious light, nature appeared but a ghostly 
echo of herself. 

The towering pinnacle of old Eagles’ Peak 
loomed up nearer ; the snowy surface began 
to reveal its bald, rugged forms, its precipi- 
tous slopes and glittering rocks. 

But even the wonderful panorama and the 


286 The Rambler Club’s 


thrills of flying at a tremendous speed could 
not relieve the intense feeling of anxiety 
which the aviator and his companion ex- 
perienced. Their eyes continually roved over 
the landscape for any signs of the “ Border 
City.” 

“ We’re likely to learn something mighty 
soon,” murmured Bob. “ Whew, but it’s get- 
ting cold.” 

An icy feeling was in the air ; the wind 
rushing steadily past carried with it an un- 
pleasant sting. 

Ten minutes later, as the “ Ogden II ” 
began to skirt around old Eagles’ Peak, 
the boys’ hearts fairly leaped with excite- 
ment and hope. 

The bright sparkle of a fire on a jutting 
ledge had sprung into view ; then disap- 
peared, as objects passed between ; then 
gleamed once more. 

The boys saw something else, too. An 
exultant yell came from Cranny’s lips. 
There was no mistaking that huge, cigar- 
shaped form which seemed to be resting 
across the tops of a dense mass of pines. 
The rounded surface of the “ Border City ” 


Aeroplane 287 

glimmered with light, or lost its outlines in 
the surrounding shadows. 

“ It looks like some huge slumbering mon- 
ster, ” thought Bob Somers, as, with a steady 
hand, he directed their course still nearer the 
spur, and toward the ruddy, dancing flames. 

“ Rah, rah ! " He joined with Cranny 
Beaumont in a shout. 

The “ Ogden II ” shot far above the air- 
ship, and they were looking down upon a 
scene, on the edge of the forest, which made 
their nerves tingle with joy. Around the 
huge fire, three figures were seen, each wildly 
waving his hands toward them. 

“ Safe — safe ! Sure as I live ! " 

Bob Somers and his passenger exchanged 
glances of the greatest satisfaction, and craned 
their necks to keep in view the little group. 

As Bob raised his head again, he had a 
vague impression as of seeing a tiny star-like 
point of light out of the corner of his eye. It 
was, apparently, far distant, at the bottom of 
a rolling valley. 

Upon looking a second time, it had vanished 
completely. Bob winked his eye hard. 

“ Yet I'm almost sure of it," he murmured. 


288 The Rambler Club’s 

“ Ah ha — there it is ! Now what does that 
mean ? ” 

The star-like point had come plainly into 
view between a gash in a deeply shadowed 
slope. Cranny, too, had seen it. He put his 
mouth close to the aviators ear. 

“ Look, Somers ! ” he yelled, with all his 
force. 

Bob nodded. 

“ We’ll investigate ! ” he roared, in reply. 

Happy in the thought that their midnight 
mission had been so successful, he changed 
the course of the “ Ogden II,” heading toward 
the tiny beacon which flared and fluttered, 
and constantly brightened, against the green- 
ish-gray background. 

With a long, thrilling downward swoop, the 
biplane shot ahead, while the jagged mountain 
crests which hemmed them in rose higher 
and higher. Presently they were skimming 
across a patch of timber at a sufficiently low 
altitude to see a number of tethered bronchos 
wildly prancing about and several dusky 
figures evidently staring toward them. 

Bob Somers shut off all power for an instant, 
allowing the machine to volplane. The earth 


Aeroplane 289 

seemed to be racing toward them with terrible 
rapidity. 

Above the rush and hum of the wind strik- 
ing against the planes he heard a medley of 
ringing shouts. 

Both boys knew those voices, and, highly 
delighted, both answered with telling effect 
before the roar of the motor once more 
drowned all other sounds. 

Bob Somers eagerly scanned the valley, 
determining to make a landing if possible. 
After circling about in all directions, he at 
length discovered a comparatively level stretch 
overgrown with waving bunch-grass. 

“ Just the place ; it ought not to be difficult, " 
he reflected. 

Cranny Beaumont understood his signifi- 
cant look. 

“ Sure thing, Bob ! ” he yelled in his ear. 

The “ Ogden II " began to volplane again. 
It was the most difficult undertaking of Bob 
Somers' short career as an aviator. But with 
all his wits about him, he steered the machine 
toward the most level stretch he could see. 

“ We're goin' to make a corkin’ landing," 
muttered Cranny. 


290 The Rambler Club’s 

The last stretch was before them ; the bluish 
shadow trailing over the ground and the fly- 
ing machine were rushing swiftly toward 
one another. As Bob once again manipulated 
the levers, shadow and substance joined — the 
biplane had landed with a startling series of 
jolts and bumps. But the two were safe. 


CHAPTER XXIV 


TO THE RESCUE 

“ Well, well ; if this isn’t the biggest sur- 
prise ever ! My, but it was perfectly great of 
you chaps to follow the racers.” 

There wasn’t much chance for any one else 
to talk while Cranny kept rattling on. 

The two lads, after a great deal of shouting, 
had been able to locate the searching party, 
which was riding in the direction taken by 
the “ Ogden II.” 

“Yes, I can hardly believe it, even yet,” 
went on Cranny. “ An’ good old Dave here, 
too ! Yes ; it’s an honest fact, Tom ; we 
have really seen Major Carroll and the others.” 

“ The good news you bring, and this reunion 
in the poetic moonlight is one of the most 
pleasant events in our whole experience,” 
murmured Dave. 

“ Ye sure done it ag’in, Bob ! ” Jed Warren 
spoke enthusiastically. “ We’re proud o’ you, 
eh, Pete? ” 


291 


292 The Rambler Club’s 

The grizzled features of the old cow-puncher 
relaxed. 

“ Ye’re positive wonders, lads,” he said. 
“ Thar ain’t nobody on the hull range with 
more grit’n you’ve got ; an’ that’s sayin’ some- 
thin’. Shake!” 

They shook. 

“ But that don’t mean ter say, ye under- 
stand, that I believe in them thar arioplanes ; 
’cause ” 

“ It isn’t natural to fly, and it wasn’t ever 
intended,” grinned Cranny. “ Now, fellows, 
let’s get over to your camp and talk about our 
plans. We can leave the plane till morning, 
eh, Bob ? What’s that, Jed ? ” 

“ I were sayin’ as how them balloon fellers 
is sure ketch ed up thar on the old Eagle,” 
answered Jed. “ That ledge ain’t j’ined as it 
had orter be ; I reckon as how the job weren’t 
ever finished.” 

“ Ye’re sure right, pard,” assented Pete. “ I 
know’d a hunter onct — he was after some 
mountain goats — he loses his footin’ an’ slips 
down onto that spur. An’, d’ye know, the 
old Eagle keeps him up thar three hull days 
afore his pards comes acrost him.” 


Aeroplane 293 

“Have any trouble in getting out of his 
fix? ” asked Tom, eagerly. 

“ None as I ever hears 'bout. That bald- 
headed old feller is a joker ; he says : ‘ If yer 
friends is good ’nuff to come arter ye an' shy 
ye a rope, ye gits off easy ; but ye can’t do 
nothin’ much by yer lonesome.’ Understan’? 
Inter the saddle, boys ; an’ right after day- 
break we starts off, an’ the old Eagle will git 
fooled ag’in.” 

“ Oh ho ; isn’t it great the way things have 
turned out, Bob ? ” murmured Dave. 

“ Well, ra-ther,” answered Bob, springing 
up beside Jed Warren. 

Tom Clifton’s sturdy little broncho was 
soon struggling along under the combined 
weight of the “ Doctor ” and Cranny. Prog- 
ress was necessarily slow ; but, at length, 
they were all gathered around the crackling 
flames. 

Although the summit of old Eagles’ Peak 
reared itself, solemn and grand, against a star- 
studded sky, a high ridge shut from view the 
signal fire built on its spur. 

The boys were tired that night and soon 
turned in, sleeping soundly until the first 


294 


The Rambler Club’s 


gray streaks in the eastern sky heralded the 
approach of another day. They were aroused 
by the gruff voice of Pete Sanderson, who was 
already up, and cooking breakfast over a pile 
of red-hot embers. 

“ Pitch in, younkers, an’ git yer grub,” he 
commanded. “ Mebbe them thar fellers ain't 
got none, an' the old Eagle has a chanct ter 
laugh ag'in.” 

“ Bob ” — Dave Brandon yawned and rubbed 
his eyes — “ really, it isn't safe to leave the 
* Ogden II ' unguarded ; now, even though it 
is a great sacrifice, you may borrow my pony, 
while I ” 

“ Ha, ha ! ” snickered Cranny. “ And who 
will be obligin' enough to lend me his 
bronc’ ? ” 

“ Maybe ” began Tom. 

“ It's all settled,” announced Cranny, com- 
placently. “ Thanks, Tom, old bo}C' 

Five minutes later, the departing horsemen 
waved an adieu to the two volunteer guard- 
ians of the “ Ogden II.” 

“ A jolly hard tug ahead of us,” remarked 
Sam Randall to Tim Lovell. 

“ You bet there is,” answered Tim. “ It's 


Aeroplane 295 

mighty lucky Pete and Jed are along. They 
know all the trails and short cuts ; so we won’t 
find ourselves pocketed in some ravine or 
gorge.” 

“ We don’t let nature make sport of us like 
that,” grinned Sam. “ Guess ‘ Old Eagle ’ 
isn’t the only joker around these parts.” 

The cow-punchers, like generals in com- 
mand, led the advance, while the five boys, at 
times riding almost abreast, at others strung 
out in single file, followed them over ridges, 
and around impenetrable masses of vegetation, 
or through the aisles of whispering pine for- 
ests. The early morning light sent a rosy 
glow climbing up the tree trunks or trailing 
over the ground ; insects chanted ; the songs 
of birds sounded above the trampling and 
crashing hoof-beats — all nature seemed to be 
full of brightness and serenity. 

“ Cracky ; isn’t this fine ! ” called out Dick. 

“ Corking ! ” said Cranny. “ Maybe those 
chaps won’t be glad to see us, eh ? ” 

“ You bet ! Guess they aren’t used to such 
high livin’,” chuckled Tim. 

Old Eagles’ Peak was evidently a great deal 
further off than it appeared. After an hour’s 


The Rambler Club’s 


296 

steady march, the rugged heights still looked 
discouragingly distant. 

“ Oh, for the ‘ Ogden II ’ again, Cranny ! ” 
sang out Bob. 

“ It certainly does spoil a chap for travel- 
ing like a snail,” grumbled the big lad, wiping 
his perspiring face. 

The scenery was wild and impressive. 
Lofty peaks and gigantic crags loomed up 
on every hand. Fallen tree trunks and other 
obstructions seemed to challenge their efforts 
to advance. But the cowboys always found a 
way to master all difficulties, and by noon 
the bronchos clattered upon a slope which 
rose to a dizzy height above them. 

Here they halted for lunch. 

“ It’s ’bout three hours more o' tough work 
for the ponies, Bob,” remarked Jed Warren. 

“ They are certainly chuck full of courage,” 
said Bob. 

He looked toward the little animals, whose 
nostrils and shaggy sides were sending up 
clouds of steam. 

“ Circle T Ranch has got the pick o’ the 
plains,” grunted Pete. “ Fall to, younkers.” 

The boys promptly obeyed his instruc- 


Aeroplane 297 

tions, and when the march was resumed, a 
short time later, both they and the horses 
were considerably refreshed. 

It was, as Jed Warren had said, hard on 
the ponies ; at times, it seemed as if the ob- 
stacles which confronted them would prove 
insurmountable ; but men, boys or animals 
never wavered. Stones were sent rattling 
down steep descents ; ledges, with only a few 
yards between them and a plunge of hundreds 
of feet, crossed. 

Scarcely exchanging a word, they climbed 
higher and higher. The snow on old Eagles’ 
Peak, in the full glare of the afternoon sun, 
fairly dazzled their eyes with its brilliancy. 
Halts were made with increasing frequency, 
and in the shadows of the pine forests they 
managed to find some relief from the oppress- 
ive heat. 

But gradually the torrid zone fell behind 
them, and when, an hour later, Pete reined 
up, the atmosphere was cool and refreshing. 

“ WeTl hev ter picket the bronchos here,” 
he exclaimed. 

The boys had been expecting this an- 
nouncement for some time. They were now 


298 The Rambler Club’s 

at the edge of the timber. Above, they saw 
a steep, almost barren area of glistening rocks. 

Bronchos were tethered to the trees, and, 
after saddle-bags and lariats had been slung 
over their shoulders, the party were ready for 
the final stretch. It was arranged that Sam 
Randall should remain to guard the animals. 

“ Close to the old spur now, younkers,” re- 
marked Pete, encouragingly. 

“ Mighty tough work ahead of us, though / 7 
said Bob. 

Almost every instant one or another was 
obliged to drop on his hands and knees, or 
climb laboriously to the top of some obstruc- 
tion. It seemed a long time before they 
scrambled around a bend, to see just ahead, 
at about their own level, the end of the slope 
cutting sharply against the tops of a dark 
forest of pines. Beyond, stretching out like 
a huge arm, the spur reared itself from the 
blue, hazy depths of the valley. 

“ Hooray ! 77 shouted Cranny. 

Three minutes later, the party was gazing 
upon the spur from a bold elevation that rose 
to a considerable height above it. 

“ Hello — there's the old ‘ Border City 7 ! 77 



AN ANSWER ALMOST IMMEDIATELY FLOATED BACK 




































Aeroplane 299 

cried Dick. “ Isn't it the oddest-looking 
bundle you ever saw ? " 

“ Yell, fellows, so as to let the Spurites 
know that the rescue expedition has arrived," 
burst out Cranny. He put his hand to his 
lips. “ Hello, Major Carroll ! Whoop-e-e-e I 
Hello-o-o-o ! ” 

The voices of the others joined in loudly. 

An answer almost immediately floated back 
to their ears, and three dusky figures in the 
distance were seen coming toward them, the 
smallest and slightest keeping far in the 
lead. 

“ Wee Willie ! " laughed Cranny, joyously. 

Mr. Beaumont's ward raced madly forward 
along the ledge. 

“ Goodness gracious, Cran, but maybe I'm 
not glad to see you ! " he piped, in a shrill 
voice. “ Was I scared ? — Oh, kinder. But 
everybody said I had a whole lot of spunk — 
it's an honest fact, Cran." 

“ We thank you heartily," the Major called 
up, his businesslike tones almost drowning 
Willie Sloan's excited flow of words. “ You 
have relieved us from a most embarrassing 
situation, and " 


3°o 


The Rambler Club’s 


“ Oh, say, Cran, haven't you brought a bite 
of somethin' to eat an’ a drop o' water ? " 

There was something so unconsciously 
humorous in Willie Sloan’s outburst that 
even Pete Sanderson guffawed loudly. 

“ We sartinly hev, lad,” said the latter, 
kindly. 

While Jed Warren was lowering provisions 
by means of his lariat, explanations were ex- 
changed, until both parties had learned all 
the particulars. 

“ Wal, this hyar ain't doin' nothin',” broke 
in Pete Sanderson, abruptly, at last. “ Arter 
ye git some grub, Major, I s’picion as how 
ye'd like ter hit the back trail with us?” 

Major Carroll’s glance rested upon Bob 
Somers. 

“ I feel confident that, with a new set of 
batteries, the ‘ Border City ' will fly as well as 
ever,” he said. “ Now, Somers, I almost hesi- 
tate to ask such a great favor, but the skill 
you have shown in handling the ‘ Ogden II ' 
is my justification ; could you ” 

Bob understood, and nodded. 

“ Certainly, Major,” he answered. “ I’ll 
skip over to Border City in the biplane, and 


Aeroplane 301 

bring back whatever apparatus you may 
need.” 

“ You will place us under everlasting obli- 
gations/’ said Major Carroll. 

“ I’m going, too, Bob Somers,” announced 
Cranny, decidedly. “ Let’s start right away.” 
He crooked his finger, and this significant 
motion catching Willie Sloan’s eye, made the 
boy walk some distance away from Major Car- 
roll and Kindale. 

The big lad followed him along the edge of 
the rocks. 

“ Well, Cran?” 

“ See here, Willie, did you really write to 
dad ? ” 

It was an eager question, spoken in a low tone. 

“ I certainly did, Cran.” 

Cranny’s eyes snapped ; the aggressive tilt 
of his jaw became more in evidence. 

“ And what did you say ? ” 

“ Oh, — an awful lot. But you’re a good 
chap, after all. I'm — I’m ” 

“ Sorry ? ” snapped Cranny, with a dreadful 
frown. 

“ No ; going to see if there’s anything more 
to eat.” 


3 02 


The Rambler Club’s 


Willie thereupon ended the unsatisfactory 
conversation by hurrying away. 

After Major Carroll had disposed of his 
cold lunch, a brief council was held. It was 
decided that the cow-punchers and boys 
should make a camp and await the return of 
Bob Somers and Cranny Beaumont from Bor- 
der City. 

“ We ought to be able to reach here early 
to-morrow morning,” said Bob. 

“ And if everything goes as I hope it will, 
the ‘ Border City ’ will soon after set sail for 
the town,” remarked Major Carroll. “ A 
thousand thanks, boys.” 

Good-byes were said ; and Bob and Cranny, 
with many expressions of appreciation and 
encouragement ringing in their ears, hurried 
away, leaving their friends to scramble back 
to the woods at a more leisurely pace. 

The day passed ; night came, with a bril- 
liant moon shedding its luster over the 
magnificent scenery, and, finally, morning 
dawned. 

But it was not until after one o’clock that a 
shout in Cranny’s familiar voice announced 
the near approach of the aviators. 


303 


Aeroplane 

The Ramblers and Jed Warren, uttering 
loud whoops of delight, plunged through the 
timber to meet them. They saw the two boys 
urging their weary ponies toward the camp. 

“ Had a bully trip ! ” yelled Bob. 

“ Rah, rah ! ” cried Dick. “ Did you get 
all the stuff? ” 

“ Everything.” 

Their arrival created considerable excite- 
ment at “ Eagle Camp.” Major Carroll and 
Kindale received the batteries with profuse 
thanks. 

By means of lariats, which Pete had at- 
tached to heavy stakes driven into the 
ground, the boys lowered themselves one by 
one to the spur. 

The Major strode toward the balloon, with 
the others almost at his heels. 

Climbing up through the network of 
branches wasn’t an easy task, and the inter- 
ested boys watched them with some trepida- 
tion, all uttering sighs of relief when a hail 
told them that the men had reached the 
“ Border City ” in safety. 

During the next hour, there was a great 
deal of tinkering done by the two above the 


3°4 


The Rambler Club’s 


tree tops, and every sound excited an immense 
amount of curiosity on the part of those 
below. Encouraging reports, however, kept 
coming at intervals. Kindale finally stated 
his belief that the engine would work as well 
as ever. 

“ Here comes bulletin number fifteen," said 
Tim Lovell, as the Major's voice was heard 
again. 

“ We're ready to free the propeller now, 
boys," he shouted ; “ so let Willie come along." 

The crowd grew enthusiastic. 

Willie, boosted up on Cranny’s sturdy 
shoulders, seized a low branch and began his 
climb. The big lad followed him from limb 
to limb. Mr. Beaumont’s ward soon reached 
the rope ladder, and presently Cranny had 
the satisfaction of seeing him peer downward 
from over the rail of the “ Border City." 

Cranny, obeying instructions from Major 
Carroll, emptied the bag of sand, and released 
the ladder, which was promptly drawn up. 
Then, sitting astride a convenient limb, he 
watched the men clearing away the branches 
with hatchets and saws. 

Cranny restrained his desire to give a rous- 


Aeroplane 305 

ing yell with difficulty, for he saw that the 
tugging captive was almost dragging itself 
free from the limbs, branches and masses of 
foliage that encompassed the car. Its great, 
long hull was considerably misshapen, but, 
apparently, had suffered no serious damage, 
and now swayed gently from a position almost 
vertically above the car. 

Suddenly the tree tops were agitated, as if 
by a gale of wind ; the dark object above 
Cranny's head seemed magically lifted away ; 
the guide rope reared itself from amidst the 
timber, and the “ Border City " was free. 

The boys dashed and leaped through the 
pine woods as if a pack of howling coyotes 
was after them. At the first clearing they 
stopped, and, although almost breathless, 
managed to give another shout when they saw 
the “ Border City " high in the air, with the 
cable dipping down in a long curve. 

“ Well, they're going some now," remarked 
Cranny. 

“ And I'm real glad ter see it," said Jed. 

“ Me, too — fur the first time," added Pete 
Sanderson, with a sort of grunt, “ though it 
don’t look no naturaler than it ever did." 


306 The Rambler Club’s 

Bronchos were quickly saddled, and the 
descent begun. 

After several hours of, at times, difficult 
and dangerous traveling, they finally came 
within sight of the “ Ogden II ” and Dave and 
Tom’s camp close beside it. 

Of course the latter were delighted to see 
them, and, as they found a great deal to talk 
about, it was not until late in the afternoon 
that a start was made for Lone Pine. 

The “ Ogden II ” carried Bob and his 
passenger high over the mountains, and, cut- 
ting swiftly through the air, reached the grim 
old ranch-house almost before the riders, fol- 
lowing the lead of Pete and Jed, had left the 
last difficult pass behind them. 

That evening they had a jolly reunion, in 
which the cow-punchers took a prominent 
part. The telephone between Lone Pine, 
Circle T and Border City was used very often, 
and many voices were sent over the wire. It 
had the pleasing effect of seeming to bring 
them and their friends, so far separated by 
the lonely, darkened prairie, close together. 

The dirigible got back to town safe and 
sound. 


3°7 


Aeroplane 

“ Isn't it fine ! " cried Bob. The receiver 
was against his ear. “ Willie's at the 'phone." 

“ Say, Somers," he heard, “ the Major thinks 
a whole lot of you fellows. Wasn't it awful 
odd how that little red book changed things 
for me ? But for it I might be at Lone Pine 
now, scrapping with old Doc Cliffy. He's a 
good chap, all right. But, look here, air- 
skimmers are certainly not in it with balloons." 


CHAPTER XXV 


THE VISITORS 

The inhabitants of Border City and the 
cow-punchers and sheep raisers who occasion- 
ally visited it had perhaps never dreamed that 
there was destined to spring up in town a 
building of such elegance and such arrange- 
ments for comfort as the Carroll Inn. 

Hot, dusty and generally silent, Border 
City, apparently dropped on the prairie floor 
with no more regard for its general plan than 
if it had been a scattered heap of chips, had 
become mildly famous, and the Carroll Inn 
was worthy of its newly-acquired celebrity. 

Since the advent of Major Warfield Carroll, 
a trifling inattention on the part of the people 
to the science of government had been cor- 
rected. Border City had elected a mayor — 
the principal street was named after him; 
there were also a number of councilmen, a 
magistrate, and a police force large enough to 
afford protection to the town. There were 
308 


Aeroplane 309 

even two full-fledged political parties, each 
with its “ boss.” 

Early on the morning following their re- 
turn, Major Carroll sat in his private room, 
where Willie was poring over a book on me- 
chanics. 

A sharp knock sounded at the door. The 
lad immediately answered it, and a telegram 
was handed in. 

“ Goodness ; it’s for Cran ! ” he exclaimed. 

“ You told me that he is coming here to- 
morrow morning, with the intention of start- 
ing work in earnest, I believe,” said the Ma- 
jor, with a twinkle in his eye. 

“ Yes, sir ! ” 

“ The telegram may be important. Better 
call him up at Lone Pine.” 

The telephone stood in one corner of the 
room, and Willie was soon imparting the in- 
formation to Cranny. 

“ All right, Cran ; just a second,” he said, a 
moment later. 

Hastily tearing open the envelope, Willie 
glanced over the telegram, then uttered an 
exclamation of surprise. 

“ Why — why — goodness ! ” — he stared 


3 '° 


The Rambler Club’s 


hard at the Major — “ Mr. Beaumont is coming 
on ! ” he cried. His mouth was turned toward 
the telephone again. 11 Cran — I say, Cran — 
your father will be here this afternoon at five- 
forty. No; it’s not a joke! This afternoon, 
I say.” 

“ I can feel an awful row coming,” sounded 
over the wire, in Cranny’s voice. It was 
much weaker than usual, and had a sort of 
despairing ring. * “ If dad had only given me 
one week’s more time — just one week ! I 
can’t blame him for feeling sore, though. 
Gee ! ” 

“ Cheer up, Cran.” 

A confused buzzing sound, as of many 
voices speaking at once, assailed Willie’s ears. 
Then, presently, Cranny said : 

“ The whole crowd will be there in time to 
meet the train. Good-bye, Willie.” 

Mr. Beaumont’s ward, his face wearing a 
rather odd expression, hung up the receiver. 

“ I shall be glad to meet your guardian, 
Willie,” remarked Major Carroll, rising from 
his chair. “ Come — it’s time to leave for the 
workshop.” 

The boy followed him briskly down-stairs. 


Aeroplane 31 1 

At the hangar, Kindale and the other mech- 
anicians often found a use for his services. 
Willie Sloan was always active now, and eager 
to learn all he could. 

About half-past four o’clock that afternoon 
the boys from the ranch rode up to a long shed 
which was built against one side of the han- 
gar, and dismounted ; then, after tying their 
bronchos, they made a concerted dash toward 
the entrance. 

“ They sure ain’t got no rheumatiz.” This 
from the art connoisseur. 

“ It’s only because they hain’t lived long 
enough,” growled old Si Peterson. 

In about five minutes the boys reappeared, 
accompanied by a small, slight lad, and began 
to walk briskly toward the road. 

“ Dad is certainly going to jump on me,” 
remarked Cranny Beaumont, to the slight lad. 

“ He’ll have to jump pretty high, then,” said 
the other. 

“ So the Major is at the inn ? ” said Dave. 
“ Well, he’ll soon have the pleasure of meeting 
your father, Cranny.” 

The big lad made no response. He wasn’t 
in a very happy frame of mind, for he had 


3 12 


The Rambler Club’s 


honestly intended to make a splendid showing 
of the Border City business. 

In front of the terminal were congregated 
the usual crowd of people whose chief enjoy- 
ment in life seemed to be in watching the 
arrival and departure of trains. Guests of the 
Carroll Inn as well as those from the “ Black 
Bear ” and “ Cattlemen’s Retreat ” arrived. 
A little later, the leading art connoisseur and 
old Si Peterson wandered up, to lend their 
presence to the gathering. 

Cranny was watching the train. It didn’t 
look like an ordinary train to him ; it seemed 
to typify the approach of fate. The shrieking 
whistle, which again rolled over the prairie, 
smote harshly upon his ears, as though it 
mocked his failure and carried with it the 
extinguishment of all hope for a further stay 
in Wyoming. 

“ Well, I can’t help it now,” murmured 
Cranny, “ but if I only had another week ” 

“ Gee, Cran ; won’t it be great to see your 
father ? ” cried Willie, breaking in upon his 
thoughts. 

In a moment more, the big locomotive 
rumbled beneath the train shed. 


3*3 


Aeroplane 

The reception committee, including the art 
connoisseur and old Si Peterson, did not in- 
tend to miss a single thing which might 
furnish an entertaining topic upon which to 
wile away an hour or two. They saw upon 
the platform of the third car two gentlemen 
ready to alight, and also the crowd of boys 
making a rush toward them. 

“ Hello, Mr. Beaumont ! ” called out Willie, 
who led the advance. 

Then he stopped short, gaping in astonish- 
ment at a stout, florid-faced man, who, suit 
case in hand, stood directly behind his guard- 
ian. 

“ Mr. Sharswood ! " he gasped, faintly. 

Yes, actually, it was Mr. Sharswood, of 
Tacoma. 

Cranny, too, was amazed. But even more 
amazed to see his father's face wearing a 
genial, happy smile. 

“ Hello, Cranny ! How are you, boys ? " 

The idle citizens witnessed the meeting, and 
listened to scraps of conversation with the 
greatest interest. 

“ Cranny, I'm delighted. You have done 
wonderfully well — splendidly," they heard 


3H 


The Rambler Club’s 


Mr. Beaumont say, as he grasped his son's 
hand and shook it heartily. “ And I told Mr. 
Sharswood your mission would be successful.” 

Cranny Beaumont almost staggered ; he 
stared in utter bewilderment into his father’s 
face, while, above the rapid flow of conversa- 
tion which followed, was heard a peculiar little 
gasping chuckle. 

“ Eh — eh ? ” stammered the big lad. 

Was Mr. Beaumont actually making sport 
of him before all that crowd ? It seemed like 
it. And yet the expression on his face did 
not seem to be assumed. 

“ Yes, Cranny, I’m proud of you,” went on 
Mr. Beaumont, rapidly. “ All the informa- 
tion I wanted — nothing unthought of ; every 
detail clear and concise ! But why did you 
not write the letter yourself, instead of getting 
Willie to do it for you ? ” 

An idea suddenly flashed through Cranny’s 
mind which dispelled his bewilderment. 

“ I — I ” he began. Then all the cool 

composure of his nature came to his assistance. 
He gulped once or twice. 

“ Dad,” he said, with a shrug of his broad 
shoulders, “ if you have the kind of informa- 


Aeroplane 315 

tion you want, don’t give me a bit of credit 

for it. All that belongs to ” He laid his 

hand on the shoulder of his father’s ward. 

“ Willie Sloan ! Why, what do you mean? ” 
cried Mr. Beaumont, while the florid face of 
Mr. Sharswood exhibited all the symptoms 
of extreme astonishment. 

“Just what I say,” answered Cranny, 
frankly. “ This young chap got ahead of me.” 

The big lad thereupon explained clearly 
and concisely just how matters stood. 

“Well, well, Beaumont, I call that a manly 
act on your son’s part,” exclaimed Mr. Shars- 
wood. “ It comes hard to admit one’s faults 
as freely as he has. I admire him for it ; I do, 
indeed, Beaumont. Cranny — your hand ! ” 

The boys felt considerable curiosity to learn 
the reason for the appearance of Mr. Shars- 
wood at Border City ; but nothing was said 
on the subject while the party was on its way 
to the Carroll Inn. 

They found the financier waiting to receive 
them in his private room. 

Cranny, having fully recovered his spirits, 
made the introduction in his usual free and 
easy manner. 


316 The Rambler Club’s 

“Sit down, gentlemen,” said Major Car- 
roll, waving his visitors to seats. He looked 
sharply around, then added : “ I thought 
Doctor Clifton might be among you.” 

“ Doctor Clifton ? ” exclaimed Tim Lovell. 

“ Yes I ” 

Everybody stared hard at everybody else, 
while Tom, turning furiously red, stood 
twirling his cap. 

A surprising little laugh came from Willie. 
Then, rushing over, he seized the tall lad by 
the hand and dragged him unwillingly for- 
ward. “ This is our Dr. Thomas Cliffy.” 

“ Why — why — he’s only a boy ! ” exclaimed 
the Major, with surprise in his voice. 

More confusion on the part of Tommy fol- 
lowed. 

“ I thought you said ” 

“ That he was a six-footer,” piped Willie, 
“ and called him Doctor Clifton — that’s all.” 

A faint twinkle came into the financier’s 
eye. He glanced at the two men and row of 
smiling lads. 

“ That’s so,” he said, slowly. The twinkle 
deepened ; then he broke into a hearty laugh. 

“ Well,” exclaimed Cranny, an instant later, 


Aeroplane 317 

“ isn’t he a sly little duffer, Dave? That’s 
the time he put one over on you, Major.” 

“ Cranny — Cranny ! ” remonstrated his fa- 
ther. 

The financier smiled. 

“ I have discovered that our young friend 
Willie has a guileless, innocent way about 
him,” he said, good-humoredly. “ He did 
what no one ever succeeded in doing before — 
completely hoodwinked me.” 

“ I hope — I hope you’re not angry, sir,” 
began Willie. “ It seemed too good a joke to 
spoil it. And, besides, isn’t he a six-footer ? ” 

Tommy’s face had reached the limit of 
crimson. 

“ Oh, for goodness’ sake, forget it ! ” he 
snapped. 

The Major, with a smile, disclaimed any 
feeling of anger. 

“ Tom,” remarked Willie, in a low tone, 
“ that’s my last joke on you — honest. I 
don’t feel grouchy, like I used to. Let’s be 
good friends, eh ? ” 

Tom instantly brightened up. 

“ Why, sure thing, Willie,” he said, cor- 
dially, extending his hand. 


318 The Rambler Club’s 

The Sloan-Clifton feud was at an end. 

“ Well, it certainly beats the dickens how 
things have turned out,” remarked Cranny. 
“ Why, here is Willie, who was just sent out 
here to get livened up, an’ ” 

It wasn’t in the big lad’s nature to speak in 
a whisper. Major Carroll overheard. 

“ Yes,” he said, “ Willie has livened up. I 
predict that some day he w T ill surprise us.” 

The boy glanced proudly toward Mr. Shars- 
wood. 

“ I believe that if every young fellow could 
find out just what he is especially fitted for in 
life the percentage of failures would be much 
less,” said Major Carroll. “ I hope you will 
pardon me, Mr. Beaumont, for making an 
observation ; to my mind, this was the 
trouble with your ward — he did not find the 
work he was doing suited to his liking or 
talents.” 

“ But why didn’t you tell me, Willie?” 
queried Mr. Beaumont. 

“ Because I didn’t know myself,” answered 
Willie ; “ I’ve just found out.” 

The three gentlemen then began to talk 
earnestly. 


Aeroplane 319 

Within a few minutes, Mr. Beaumont 
leaned back in his chair and remarked : 

“ I am delighted. Even though nothing 
more than this had been accomplished, I 
would have been more than satisfied with 
your trip. Willie shall go to a school of 
technology. Cranny ” — he laughed dryly — 
“ I was once a boy myself ; I accept your ex- 
planation. You have, at least, acted in a 
manly fashion.” 

“ Undoubtedly, sir ; undoubtedly ! ” came 
from Mr. Sharswood. 

“ And shall have the privilege of staying a 
few weeks longer.” 

Cranny found it hard to refrain from shout- 
ing. 

“ Say, Willie, what does P. G. S stand for ? ” 
asked Bob, suddenly. 

“ Why, Pretty Good Sort, of course,” laughed 
Willie. 

“And that’s just what you are!” cried 
Cranny Beaumont, “ eh, fellows?” 

And the others immediately assented with 
much enthusiasm and vigor. 

Mr. Sharswood, who had become deeply 


3 2 ° 


The Rambler Club’s 


interested in the development of Border City, 
decided to remain in town with his friend, 
and make a thorough investigation of the 
conditions. 

Of course, with the boys, they attended the 
greatest aeroplane meet in the history of 
Wyoming. The Ogdens captured several 
prizes for speed and altitude flights, while 
Bob Somers, flying the machine with which 
he had become familiar, also made several 
records which attracted local attention, and, 
incidentally, added to the growing fame of 
the Rambler Club. 


Other Stories in this Series are : 

THE RAMBLER CLUB AFLOAT 

THE RAMBLER CLUB’S WINTER CAMP 

THE RAMBLER CLUB IN THE MOUNTAINS 

THE RAMBLER CLUB ON CIRCLE T RANCH 

THE RAMBLER CLUB AMONG THE LUMBERJACKS 

THE RAMBLER CLUB’S GOLD MINE 

THE RAMBLER CLUB’S HOUSE-BOAT 

THE RAMBLER CLUB’S MOTOR CAR (in press) 

THE RAMBLER CLUB’S BALL NINE (in press) 















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